


Forbidden Courage

by Otrera (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-05-19 10:24:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 57,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5963904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Otrera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Autumn Potter, the younger, mute twin of Harry Potter, has come to Hogwarts. She has to deal with three headed dogs, rumors, and a killer out to get her. Am I forgetting anything? Oh, yes: a certain blond Slytherin called Draco Malfoy. Draco hates Autumn just as much as her brother, but a prank pulled by Autumn's best friend might lead to a shift in emotions.<br/>*Years 1-3<br/>*No copyright infringement intended. I only own Autumn Potter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Summer

   Nearly ten years had passed since Vernon and Petunia Dursley had woken to find their niece and nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front garden and it lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Harry and Autumn Potter had been left on the Dursleys' doorstep. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-coloured bonnets - but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, riding a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, and being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign that more children lived there, too.  
    Yet Harry and Autumn Potter were still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. Their Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.  
    "Up! Get up! Now!"  
    The fraternal twins woke with a start. Their aunt rapped on the door again.  
    "Up!" she screeched. Autumn heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. Shaking off her dream (a nightmare about identical jets of green light), Autumn nudged her brother, who had rolled over and hidden under the blankets again.  
    Their aunt was back outside the door again.  
    "Are you up yet?" she demanded.  
    "Nearly," yawned Harry.  
    "Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon and eggs. And don't you dare let them burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."  
    Harry groaned while Autumn scowled.  
    "What did you say?" their aunt snapped through the door.  
    "Nothing, nothing..."  
    Dudley's birthday - how could they have forgotten? Autumn and Harry got slowly out of bed and began looking for clothes. Harry found a pair of socks under the bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. The siblings were used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where they slept.  
    When they were dressed Harry and Autumn went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Autumn, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise - unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favorite punching bags were his cousins, but he couldn't often catch them. They didn't look it, but Harry and Autumn were very fast.  
    Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry and Autumn had always been small and skinny for their age. In fact, Autumn had been the shortest student in their grade since primary school. They looked even smaller and skinnier than they really were because all they had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was at least four times bigger than they were (though on occasion, Aunt Petunia would give Autumn her most worn out dress). Harry and Autumn had thin faces, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. Autumn had contacts, but Harry wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The thing they liked most about their appearances were thin, identical scars on their foreheads that were shaped like bolts of lightning. They had been there for as long as they could remember, and the first question Harry could ever remember asking their Aunt Petunia was how they had gotten them.  
    "In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions."  
    Don't ask questions - that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.  
    Autumn couldn't have asked questions if she wanted too; the same car crash that had given her and her brother their scars and killed their parents had partially damaged her vocal cords. Autumn could still make some sounds (sighs, laughter, the letters s and h) but for the most part, she was mute. She communicated using sign language, but Harry was the only one other person she knew who understood sign language, and that was only because he had to translate for Autumn when she answered questions at school.  
    Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.  
    Vernon Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache.  
    By way of morning greeting, he ordered Autumn to bring him his coffee and barked at Harry, "Comb your hair!"  
    About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way - all over the place. By contrast, Autumn's hair was long, wavy and easily tamed.  
    Autumn was frying eggs and Harry was making French toast by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel - Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.  
    Harry put the plates of bacon, egg, and French toast on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.  
    "Thirty-six," he said, looking at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."  
    "Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."  
    "All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Autumn, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began working down her bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.  
    Aunt Petunia obviously sensed danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? _Two_ more presents. Is that all right?"  
    Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty... thirty..."  
    "Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.  
    "Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."  
    Uncle Vernon chuckled.  
    "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley." He ruffled Dudley's hair.  
    At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Autumn, Harry, and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.  
    "Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take them." She jerked her head in Harry's and Autumn's direction.  
    Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Autumn's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the cinema. Every year, Autumn and her brother were left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Autumn hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made them look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.  
    "Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry and Autumn as though they'd planned this. Autumn knew she ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when she reminded herself it would be a whole year before she had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.  
    "We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.  
    "Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the children."  
    The Dursleys often spoke about the Potter twins like this, as though they weren't there - or rather, as though they were something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a pair of slugs.  
    "What about what's-her-name, your friend - Yvonne?"  
    "On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.  
    "You could just leave us here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer) as Autumn nodded emphatically in agreement.  
    Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.  
    "And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.  
    "We won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.  
    "I suppose we could take them to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "... and leave them in the car...."  
    "That car's new, they're not sitting in it alone...."  
    Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying - it had been years since he'd really cried - but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.  
    "Dinky Diddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let them spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.  
    "I... don't... want... them... t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "They always sp-spoil _everything_!" He shot his cousins a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.  
    Just then, the doorbell rang - "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically - and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped crying at once.  
    Half an hour later, Autumn and Harry, who couldn't believe their luck, were sitting in the third row of the Dursleys' car behind Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in their life. Their aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with them, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken them aside.  
    "I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to theirs, "I'm warning you now, Potters - any funny business, any at all - and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."  
    "We're not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly..."  
    But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did.  
    The problem was, strange things often happened around the Potter twins and it was just no good telling the Dursleys they didn't make them happen.  
    Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barber's looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who had spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had shaved it off. He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.  
    Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force Autumn into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls). The harder she tried to pull it over her head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but it certainly wouldn't fit Autumn. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to her great relief, Autumn wasn't punished.  
    On the other hand, she'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing her as usual when, as much to Autumn's surprise as anyone else's, there she was sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Autumn's headmistress telling them Autumn had been climbing school buildings. But all she'd tried to do (as she'd told Harry later that night) was jump behind the big trash bins outside the kitchen doors. Autumn supposed that the wind must have caught her in mid-jump.  
    But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, their cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.  
    While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: Autumn, people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Autumn were just a few of his favourite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.  
    "... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.  
    "I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry suddenly. "It was flying."  
    Uncle Vernon nearly crashed the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a giant beet with a mustache, "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"  
    Dudley and Piers sniggered.  
     **You shouldn't have said anything,** Autumn signed to her brother.  
    "It was only a dream," said Harry.  
     **Yes, but you know how the Dursleys are,** Autumn reminded him.  
    If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than there asking questions, it was their talking about (or signing about, in Autumn's case) anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was a dream or even a cartoon - the Dursleys seemed to think they might get dangerous ideas.  
    It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry and Autumn what they wanted before they could drag the latter away, they bought them both a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasn't bad, either, Autumn thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond.  
    Autumn had the best morning she'd had in a long time. She and Harry were careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't call back on their favourite hobby of hitting them. They are in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry and Autumn were allowed to finish the first.  
    Autumn felt, afterward, that she should have known it was all too good to last.  
    After lunch, they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Between the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash bin - but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.  
    Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.  
    "Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.  
    "Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped on the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.  
    "This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.  
    Autumn and Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. Autumn wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself - no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least she got to visit the rest of the house.  
    The snake opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with the twins'.  
     _It winked._  
    Harry's jaw fell open. "Did it just...?" he asked his sister.  
    She nodded. Then she looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. She looked back at the snake and winked, too.  
    The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry and Autumn look that said quite plainly:  
   _"I get that all the time."_  
    "I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."  
    The snake nodded vigorously.  
    "Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.  
    The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry and Autumn peered at it.  
    Boa Constrictor, Brazil.  
    "Was it nice there?"  
    The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and they read on: This specimen was bred at the zoo. "Oh, I see - so you've never been to Brazil?"  
    As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry and Autumn made them all jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T _BELIEVE_ WHAT IT'S DOING!"  
    Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.  
    "Out of the way, you two," he said, shoving Harry and Autumn out of the way. Caught by surprise, they fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened - one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.  
    Autumn sat up and gasped; the glass in front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was unwilling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.  
    As the snake slid swiftly past her, Autumn could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come.... Thanksss, amigosss."  
    The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.  
    "But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"  
    The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Autumn had seen, the snake hadn't done anything but snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry and Autumn at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry and Autumn were talking to it, weren't you, Potters?"  
    Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on the twins. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go - cupboard - stay - no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.  
  
    Autumn lay in her dark cupboard, listening to the quiet sound of her brothers breathing and wishing she had a watch. She didn't know what time it was and she couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, she couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food.  
    She and her brother had lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as she could remember, ever since they'd been babies and their parents had died in that car crash. Autumn couldn't remember being in the car when her parents had died. Sometimes, when she strained her memory during long hours in her cupboard, she came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on her forehead. This, she supposed, was the crash, though she couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. She couldn't remember her parents at all. Her aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course she wasn't able to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house.  
    When they had been younger, Autumn and Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take them away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were their only family. Yet sometimes they thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know them. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to them once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry and Autumn furiously if they knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at them once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken their hands in the street the other day and walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry or Autumn tried to get a closer look.  
    At school, they had no one but each other. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated those odd Potter twins with their weird scars and baggy old clothes, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.


	2. Summer

   The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry and Autumn their longest-ever punishment. By the time they were allowed out of their cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Dudley had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane, and, first time out on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.  
    Autumn was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. The rest of them were all quite happy to join in Dudley's favourite sport: Potter Punching.  
    This was why Autumn spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around with Harry and thinking about the end of the holidays, where she could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came she and Harry would be going off to secondary school and, for the first time in their life, they wouldn't be with Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. Piers Polkiss was going there too. Harry and Autumn, on the other hand, were going to Stonewall High, the local private school. Dudley thought this was very funny.  
    "They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"  
    "No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said.  
    One day in July, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.  
    As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so grown-up. Autumn had to make a quick escape to her cupboard, because she feared the effort of trying not to laugh might break a rib or two.  
  
    There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry and Autumn went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tube in the sink. They went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like rags swimming in grey water.  
    "What's this?" Harry asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question.  
    "Your new school uniform," she said.  
    They looked in the bowl again.  
    "Oh," Harry said. "I didn't realize it had to be so wet."  
    "Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. "I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things grey for the two of you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."  
    Autumn seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. She sat down at the table and tried not to think about how she was going to look on her first day at Stonewall High - like she was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably.  
    Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from the twins' new uniforms. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.  
    They heard the click of the mail slot and the flop of letters on the doormat.  
    "Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.  
    "Make Autumn get it."  
    "Get the mail, Autumn."  
    Pleased at the opportunity to escape the stench of her uniform, Autumn went to get the mail. A few things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill - and a letter for Autumn. In her shock, she didn't notice the letter underneath it, which was addressed to Harry.  
    Autumn picked up her letter and stared at it, her heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in her whole life, had written to her. Who would? She had no friends, no other relatives - she didn't belong to the library, so she'd never even gotten rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake.  
  
 _Miss A. Potter  
The Cupboard under the Stairs  
4 Privet Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey_  
  
    The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.  
    Turning the envelope over, her hand trembling, Autumn saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms: a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.  
    "Hurry up, girl!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.  
    Autumn went back to the kitchen, still staring at her letter. She handed Uncle Vernon the bill, the postcard, and the letter to Harry that had gone unnoticed, sat down, and slowly began to open the yellow envelope.  
    Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.  
    "Marge's ill," he informed Aunt Petunia. "Ate a funny whelk..."  
    Autumn was on the point of unfolding her letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when Uncle Vernon let out a sort of strangled gasping sound. Autumn looked up.  
    He was reading Harry's letter; his piggy little eyes flew over the green words. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge.  
    "P-P-Petunia!" he gasped.  
    Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.  
    "Vernon! Oh my goodness - Vernon!"  
    They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry, Autumn, and Dudley were still in the room.  
    "Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Autumn's got a letter, too!"  
    Autumn didn't have time to move before Uncle Vernon jerked the letter out of her hands. Her mouth fell open in a silent _O_ of protest. She made a furious grab for her letter.  
    "I want to read those letters," Dudley said loudly.  
    "Get out, all of you, croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letters back inside their respective envelopes.  
    Autumn didn't move.  
   **I want my letter,** she signed angrily, momentarily forgetting that Uncle Vernon didn't know sign language.  
    "Give Autumn her letter back," said Harry, ever the helpful big brother.  
    "OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he shoved the three children into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Autumn shouldered past the two boys (she was surprisingly strong for her age) so she could listen at the keyhole.  
    "Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address - how could they possibly know where they sleep? You don't think they're watching the house?"  
    "Watching - spying - might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly.  
    "But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want -"  
    Autumn could hear Uncle Vernon pacing up and down the kitchen.  
    "No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer.... Yes, that's best... we won't do anything...."  
    "But -"  
    "I'm not having one - or two! - in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took them in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"  
  
    That evening when he got home from work, Uncle Vernon did something he'd never done before; he visited Harry and Autumn in their cupboard.  
     **Where's my letter?** signed Autumn the second Uncle Vernon squeezed through the door. **Who's writing to me?**  
    "Autumn wants to know what you've done with her letter," Harry informed Uncle Vernon.  
    "It was addressed to you by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly. "I have burned it."  
    Autumn gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. It was obvious he was lying; the address had had her cupboard on it.  
    Uncle Vernon forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful.  
    "Er - Harry, Autumn - about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking... The two of you are really getting a bit big for it... we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."  
    "Why?" said Harry.  
    "Don't ask questions!" snapped his uncle. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."  
    The Dursleys' house had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visitors (usually Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge), one where Dudley slept, and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom. It only took Harry and Autumn one trip upstairs to move everything they owned from the cupboard to this room. They sat down back to back on the bed and stared around themselves. Nearly everything in here was broken. The month-old video camera was lying on top of a small, working tank Dudley had once driven over the next door neighbour's dog; in the corner was Dudley's first-ever television set, which he'd put his foot through when his favourite programme had been cancelled; there was a large birdcage, which had once held a parrot that Dudley had swapped at school for a real air rifle, which was up on a shelf with the end all bent because Dudley had sat on it. Other shelves were full of books. They were the only things in the room that looked as though they'd never been touched.  
    Autumn sighed, got up from the bed, and started pacing.  
   **I feel stupid,** she signed suddenly.  
    Harry raised his eyebrows. That wasn't a feeling Autumn often expressed.  
    "Why?" he asked her.  
     **I think that other letter - the one Uncle Vernon read - was addressed to you,** she explained. **If I had paid the rest of the mail any notice, I would've seen it and given it to you instead of Uncle Vernon, and we would know what they said by this time.**  
    From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother, "I don't _want_ them in there... I _need_ that room... make them get out...."  
    Sighing a second time, Autumn stopped pacing and looked out the window. Yesterday she'd have given anything to be up here. Today she'd rather be back in her cupboard with that letter than up here without it.  
  


Δ

  
    Next morning, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smeltings stick, been sick on purpose, and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof, and he still didn't have his room back. Harry was glumly pushing his eggs around with his fork, chin in hand and a small frown on his lips. Autumn was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing she'd paid more attention to the mail. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly.  
    When the mail came, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to the Potter twins, made Dudley go and get it. They heard him banging things with his Smeltings stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There are more! `Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive -`"  
    With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran, Autumn and Harry right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letters from him, which was made difficult by the fact that Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind and Autumn was trying to kick him away so she could get the letters. After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot with the Smeltings stick, Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with Harry's and Autumn's letters clutched in his hand.  
    "Go to your cupboard - I mean, your bedroom," he wheezed at Autumn and Harry. "Dudley - go - just go."  
    Harry walked around and round his new room while Autumn drummed her fingers on the windowsill, probably deep in thought. Someone knew they had moved of of their cupboard, and they seemed to know neither Harry nor Autumn had received their first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time, Harry would make sure they didn't fail. He had a plan.  
  
    The repaired alarm rang at six o'clock the next morning. Harry turned it off quickly and dressed silently. He mustn't wake the Dursleys. Autumn raised her head from the pillow and looked at him sleepily, but he whispered for her to go back to sleep. He stole downstairs without turning on any of the lights.  
    He was going to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first. His heart hammered as he crept across the dark hall toward the front door -  
    "AAAAARRRGH!"  
    Harry leapt into the air; he'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat - something _alive_!  
    Lights clicked on upstairs and to his horror, Harry realized that they big, squashy something had been his uncle's face. Uncle Vernon had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly trying to do. He shouted at Harry for about half an hour and then told him to go and make a cup of tea. Harry shuffled miserably off into the kitchen and by the time he got back, the mail had arrived, right into Uncle Vernon's lap. Harry could see six letters addressed in green ink.  
    "I want -" he began, but Uncle Vernon was tearing the letters into pieces before his eyes.  
    Uncle Vernon didn't go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot.  
    "See," he explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails, "if they can't deliver them they'll just give up."  
    "I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon."  
    "Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me," said Uncle Vernon, trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him.  
  
    On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for both Harry and Autumn. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.  
    Uncle Vernon stayed home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could get out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises.  
  
    On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Forty-eight letters (twenty-four for each of the Potters) found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milkman handed Aunt Petunia through the living room window. While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food processor.  
    "Who wants to talk to _you_ this badly?" Dudley asked his cousins in amazement.  
  


Δ

  
    On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.  
    "No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully for the seventh time as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, "no damn letters today -"  
    Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked, but Harry leapt into the air trying to catch one; Autumn scrambled on the floor, picking up as many as she could -  
    "Out! OUT!"  
    Uncle Vernon seized Harry around the waist and threw him bodily into the hall, quickly sending Autumn flying after him - but not before rippling the letters out of her hands. When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.  
    "That does it," said Uncle Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his mustache at the same time. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"  
    He looked so dangerous with half his mustache missing that no one dared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway. Dudley was sniffling in the middle seat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, VCR, and computer in his sports bag.  
    They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while.  
    "Shake 'em off... shake 'em off," he would mutter whenever he did this.  
    In her palm, Autumn clutched two small scraps of parchment that had torn away from the envelope when Uncle Vernon had ripped the letters out of her hands. She didn't want to risk looking at them in the car, lest Uncle Vernon see and take those away too. She decided to look at them when they stopped at... well, wherever it was they were going.  
    They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programmes he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.  
    Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley, Autumn, and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets.   
    It was only when Dudley was snoring that Autumn felt safe enough to examine the scraps of parchment. She and Harry huddled by the window so the moonlight could shine on the parchment. The first piece was blank, prompting Autumn to make a frustrated sound, but the second piece had _admistress_ written on it in green ink.  
    Autumn stayed awake that night, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering....  
  
    They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.  
    "'Scuse me, but is any of you Mr. H. or Miss A. Potter? Only I got about two 'undred of these up at the front desk."  
    She held up two letters so they could read the green ink addresses:  
  
 _Mr. H. Potter_  
Room 17  
Railview Hotel  
Cokeworth  
  
Miss A. Potter  
Room 17  
Railview Hotel  
Cokeworth  
  
    Harry and Autumn made simultaneous grabs for the letters, but Uncle Vernon knocked their hands out of the way. The woman stared.  
    "I'll take them," said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.  
  


Δ

  
    "Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a slowed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.  
    "Daddy's gone mad, hadn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully later that afternoon. Uncle Vernon had parked them at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared.  
    It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley sniveled.  
    "It's Monday," he told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a _television_."  
    Monday. This reminded Autumn of something. If it was Monday - and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days of the week, because of television - then tomorrow, Tuesday, was her and Harry's eleventh birthday. Of course, their birthdays were never exactly fun - last year, the Dursleys had gifted Autumn a coat hanger and Harry a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks. Still, you weren't eleven every day.  
    Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought.  
    "Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!"  
    It was very cold outside the car. Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out to sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was for certain, there was no television on there.  
    "Storm forecast for tonight!" said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"  
    A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowboat bobbing on the iron-grey water below them.  
    "I've already got us some rations," said Uncle Vernon, "so all aboard!"  
    It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.  
    The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.  
    Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and four bananas. He tried to start a fire, but the empty chip bags just smoked and shrieked up.  
    "Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully.  
    He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Autumn privately agreed, although the thought did nothing to boost _her_ spirits.  
    As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the windows. Aunt Petunia found a few mouldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Harry and Autumn were left to find the softest bit of floor they could and to curl up together under the thinnest, most ragged blanket.  
    "Good night, Autumn."  
     **Sleep tight.**  
    "Don't let the bedbugs bite."  
    She smiled sleepily, signed, **Wake me when we're eleven,** and rolled on her side so their back were touching.  
    The storm raged more and more furiously as the night went on. Harry couldn't sleep. He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger. Dudley's snores were drowned out by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry that he'd be eleven in ten minutes' time. He lay and watched his and his sister's birthday tick nearer, wondering if the Dursleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now.  
    Five minutes to go. Harry heard something creak outside. He hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although he might be warmer if it did. Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that he'd be able to steal one somehow.  
    Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?  
    One minute to go and he'd be eleven. He gently shook Autumn awake, pointing at Dudley's watch by way of explanation. Thirty seconds... twenty... ten... nine - maybe he'd wake Dudley up, just to annoy him - three... two... one...  
    BOOM.  
    The whole shack shivered and Autumn flinched closer to Harry as he sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.


	3. Summer

   BOOM. They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake.  
    "Where's the cannon?" he said stupidly.  
    There was a crash behind them and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands - now they knew what had been in the long, thin package he had brought with them.  
    "Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you - I'm armed!"  
    There was a pause. Then -  
    SMASH!  
    The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.  
    A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair.  
    The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all.  
    "Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey...."  
    He strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear.  
    "Budge up, yeh great lump," said the stranger.  
    Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was crouching, terrified, behind Uncle Vernon.  
    "An' here's Harry an' Autumn!" said the giant.  
    The twins looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile.  
    "Las' time I saw you two, you was just a pair o' babies," said the giant. "Yeh look a lot like yer parents, yeh do."  
    Uncle Vernon made a funny grasping noise.  
    "I demand that you leave at once, sir!" he said. "You are breaking and entering!"  
    "Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," said the giant; he reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Uncle Vernon's hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room.  
    Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on.  
    "Anyway - Harry, Autumn," said the giant, turning his back on the Dursleys, "a very happy birthday to yeh both. Got summat fer yeh here - mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."  
    From an inside pocket of his black overcoat, he pulled a slightly squashed box. Harry opened it with trembling fingers. Peering over his shoulder, Autumn saw that inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with _Happy Birthday Harry and Autumn_ written on it in green icing.  
    Hesitantly, Autumn broke off a small piece of cake and popped it in her mouth. It was actually rather good, if a bit under-baked.  
    Harry looked up at the giant. He meant to say thank you, but the words got lost on the way to his mouth, and what he said instead was, "Who are you?"  
    The giant chuckled.  
    "True, I haven't introduced myself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."  
     He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry's and Autumn's whole arms in turns.  
    "What about that tea then, eh?" he said, rubbing his hands together. "I'd not say no to summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."  
    His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light, and Autumn felt the warmth wash over her as though she'd sunk into a hot bath.  
    The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pocket of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy pack of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley budgeted a little. Uncle Vernon said sharply, "Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley."  
    The giant chuckled darkly.  
    "Yer great puddin' of a son don' need fattenin' anymore, Dursley, don' worry."  
    He passed the sausages first to Harry and then to Autumn, who was so hungry she had never tasted anything so wonderful, but still she couldn't take her eyes off the giant.  
    Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, Harry said, "I'm sorry, but we still don't really know who you are."  
    The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  
    "Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts - yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course."  
    Autumn shook her head.  
    "Er - no," said Harry.  
    Hagrid looked shocked.  
    " _Sorry_ ," Harry said quickly.  
    "Sorry?" barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows. "It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but i never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?"  
    "All what?" asked Harry.  
    "ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!"  
    He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.  
    "Do you mean to tell me," he growled at the Dursleys, "that these kids - these kids! - know nothin' abou' - about ANYTHING?"  
    With a frown, Autumn thought that this was going a bit far. She had been to school, after all, and her marks were rather good.  
    "We know some things," protested Harry. "We can, you know, do math and stuff."  
    But Hagrid simply waved his dustbin lid-sized hand and said, "About _our_ world, I mean. _Your_ world. _My_ world. _Yer parents world_."  
    "What world?"  
    Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.  
    "DURSLEY!" he boomed.  
    Uncle Vernon, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like, "Mimblewimble." Hagrid stared at the Potter twins.  
    "But yeh must know about yer mum and dad," he said. "I mean, they're famous. You're famous."  
    "What? Our - our mum and dad weren't famous, were they?"  
    "Yeh don' know... yeh don' know..." Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing the twins with a bewildered stare.  
    "Yeh don' know what yeh _are_?" he said finally.  
    Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice.  
    "Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the children anything!"  
    A braver man then Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.  
    "You never told  'em? Never told  'em what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer 'em? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from 'em all these years?"  
    "Kept what from us?" said Harry eagerly.  
    "STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in a panic.  
    Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror.  
    "Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Harry, Autumn - yer wizards."  
    There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.  
    "We're _what_?" gasped Harry.  
    "Wizards, o' course," said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower. "Course, Autumn's technically a witch, but it's all the same. With a mum and dad like yers, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon its abou' time yeh read yer letters."  
    Autumn stretched out her hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Miss A. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. She pulled out the letter and read:  


 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warnock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

  
Dear Miss Potter,  
    We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
    Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.  
Yours sincerely,  
_Minerva McGonagall_  
Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress  
  
    Questions exploded inside Autumn's head like fireworks, but she was unable to ask any of them. Instead, she had to wait for Harry to ask them, for he surely had just as many. After a few minutes, he stammered, "What does it mean, they await my owl?"  
    "Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horses and from yet another pocket inside his enormous overcoat he pulled an owl - a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl - a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Autumn could read upside down:  
  
**Dear Professor Dumbledore,  
Given Harry and Autumn their letters.  
Taking them to get their things tomorrow.  
Weather's horrible. Hope you're well.  
Hagrid**  
  
    Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this were as normal as talking on the telephone.  
    Autumn realized her mouth was open and closed it quickly.  
    "Where was I?" said Hagrid, but at that moment, Uncle Vernon, still ashen-faced but looking very angry, moved into the firelight.  
    "They're not going," he said.  
    Hagrid grunted.  
    "I'd like to see a great Muggle like you stop 'em," he said.  
    Confused at the unfamiliar word, Autumn tilted her head to the side.  
    "A Muggle," said Hagrid, spotting the twins' puzzled expressions, "it's what we call nonmagic folk like them. An' it's your bad luck you grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on."  
    "We swore when we took them in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of them! Wizards indeed!"  
    "You _knew_?" said Harry. "You knew we were - are - wizards?"  
    "Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. " _Knew_! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like those and disappeared off to that - that school - and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frogspawn, turning teacups into rats I was the only one who saw her for what she was - a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"  
    She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.  
    "Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you two, and of course I knew you'd be just as strange, just as - as - abnormal - and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"  
    Harry and Autumn had gone very white. As soon as he found his voice, Harry said, "Blown up? You told us they died in a car crash!"  
    "CAR CRASH?" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry an' Autumn Potter not knowin' their own story when every kid in our world knows their names!"  
    "But why? What happened?" Harry asked urgently.  
    The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious.  
    "I never expected this," he said in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't lltknow. Ah, Harry, Autumn, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh - but someone's gotta - yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."  
    He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys.  
    "Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh - mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it...."  
    He sat down, stared into the fire for a few seconds and then said, "It begins, I suppose, with - with a person called - but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows -"  
    "Who?"  
    "Well - I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."  
    "Why not?"  
    "Gulpin' gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went... bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was..."  
    Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.  
    "Can you write it down?" Harry suggested.  
    "Nah - can't spell it. All right - _Voldemort_." Hagrid shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this - this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too - some were afraid, some jus' wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, dark days. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange witches or wizards... terrible things happened. He was takin' over. Course, some stood up to him - an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway.  
    "Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Yer mum was Head Girl at Hogwarts in her day, and yer dad was one o' the top students! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before... probably knew they were too close to Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side.  
    "Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em... maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you all was living, on Halloween, ten years ago. You two were just a year old. He came ter yer house an' - an' -"  
    Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a fighting.  
    "Sorry," he sniffed. "But it's that sad - knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find - anyway...  
    "You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then - an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing - he tried to kill the both of you, too. Wanted to make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he jus' liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you two got those marks on yer foreheads? They aren't any ordinary cuts. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh - took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even - but it didn't work on you two, an' that's why yer famous. No one ever lived after he decided to kill 'em, no one except you two, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches and wizards of the age - the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts - an' you were on'y a pair o' babies, an' you lived."  
    Something very painful was going on in Autumn's mind. As Hagrid's story came to a close, she saw again the blinding flash of light, more clearly than she had ever remembered it before - and she remembered something else, for the first time in her life: a high, cold, cruel laugh.  
    Hagrid was watching the twins sadly.  
    "Took the both of yeh from the ruined house meself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot..."  
    "Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon. Harry and Autumn jumped; they had almost forgotten that the Dursleys were there. Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched.  
    "Now, you listen here, Potters," he snarled, "I accept there's something strange about you two, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured - and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion - asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types - just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end -"  
    But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa a drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, "I'm warning you, Dursley - I'm warning you - one more word..."  
    In danger of being smeared on the end of an umbrella by s bearded giant, Uncle Vernon's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.  
    "That's better," said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor.  
    Harry and Autumn, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them.  
    "But what about Vol-, sorry - I mean, You-Know-Who?"  
    "Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see... he was gettin' more an' more powerful - why'd he go?  
    "Some say he died. Cadswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back.  
    "Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you two finished him, Harry, Autumn. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on - I dunno what it was, no one does - but somethin' about you two stumped him, all right."  
    Hagrid looked at Harry and Autumn with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Autumn, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A witch? Her? How could she possibly be? She'd spent her life being clouted by Dudley, and bullied by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon; of she was really a witch, why hadn't they been turned into party toads every time they'd tried to lock her in her cupboard? If she'd once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come Dudley had always been able to kick her around like a football?  
     **Hagrid,** she signed sadly, **I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a witch.**  
    Hagrid looked at her blankly.  
    "What're yeh doin' with yer hands?"  
    "Autumn can't speak," Harry explained. "She has to use sign language. Sign language is when people use their hands to communicate."  
    "Well, wha's she sayin'?" Hagrid asked, looking confused.  
    "She doesn't think she's a witch."  
    To her surprise, Hagrid chuckled.  
    "Not a witch, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"  
    Autumn looked into the fire. Now she came to think about it... every odd thing that had ever made her aunt and Uncle furious with her had happened when she, Autumn, had been upset or angry... chased by Dudley's gang, she had somehow found herself out of their reach... dreading being forced into that hideous sweater of Dudley's, it had shrunk until it couldn't fit her... and the very last time Dudley had hit her, hadn't she got her revenge, without even realizing she was doing it? Hadn't she set a boa constrictor on him?  
    Autumn looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at her.  
    "See?" said Hagrid. "Autumn Potter, not a witch - you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."  
    But Uncle Vernon wasn't going to give in without a fight.  
    "Haven't I told you they're not going?" he hissed. "They're going to Stonewall High and they'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and they need all sorts of rubbish - spell books and wands and -"  
    "If they want ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop 'em," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's kids from goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. Their names've been down ever since they were born. They're off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry on the world. Seven years there and they won't know themselves. They'll be with youngsters of their own sort, fer a change, an' they'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled -"  
    "I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH THEM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.  
    But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, "NEVER -" he thundered, "- INSULT - ALBUS - DUMBLEDORE - IN - FRONT -OF -ME!"  
    He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley - there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, they saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers.  
    Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.  
    Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.  
    "Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do."  
    He cast a sideways look at Harry and Autumn under his bushy eyebrows.  
    "Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm - er - not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff - one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job -"  
    "Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Harry.  
    "Oh, well - I was at Hogwarts meself but I - er - got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."  
    "Why were you expelled?"  
    Autumn couldn't help but roll her eyes at her brother; did he ever think before he spoke?  
    "It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."  
    He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry.  
    "You two can skip under that," he said. "Don't mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."


	4. Sunmer

    Autumn woke early the next morning. Although she could tell it was daylight, she kept her eyes shut tight.  
  _It was a dream,_ she told herself firmly. _I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell Harry and I we were going to a school for witches and wizards. When I open my eyes, I'll be at home in our cupboard._  
    There was suddenly a loud tapping noise.  
     _And there's Aunt Petunia knocking on the door,_ Autumn thought, her heart sinking. But she still didn't open her eyes. It had been such a nice dream.  
    Tap. Tap. Tap.  
    Next to Autumn, Harry mumbled, "All right, we're getting up." He threw the blanket onto Autumn, sat up, looked around, and let out an, "Oh," that was part disbelief, part excitement.  
    Autumn sat up and Hagrid's heavy coat fell off her. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.  
    Letting out an incredulous, delighted laugh, Autumn hugged her brother and scrambled to her feet. She was so happy, she felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside her. She went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn't wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid's coat.  
    "Don't do that."  
    Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat.  
    "Hagrid!" said Harry loudly. "There's an owl -"  
    "Pay him," Hagrid grunted into the sofa.  
    "What?"  
    "He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets."  
    Hagrid's coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets - bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, teabags... finally, Autumn pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins.  
    "Give him five Knuts," said Hagrid sleepily.  
    "Knuts?"  
    "The little bronze ones."  
    Autumn counted out five little bronze coins and gave them to Harry, who put the money in a small leather pouch tied to the owls leg. Then the owl flew off through the open window.  
    Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched.  
    "Best be off, you two, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."  
    Autumn and Harry were examining the wizard coins. Both children had just thought of something that made it seem as though the happy balloons inside them had gotten punctured.  
    "Um - Hagrid?"  
    "Mm?" said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots.  
    "We haven't got any money - and you heard Uncle Vernon last night... he won't pay for us to go and learn magic."  
    "Don't worry about that," said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"  
    "But if their house was destroyed -"  
    "They didn' keep their gold in the house, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold - an' I wouldn' say no teh a bit o' yer birthday cake, neither."  
    "Wizards have banks?"  
    "Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins."  
    Autumn dropped the piece of cake she was holding.  
    " _Goblins_?"  
    "Yeah - so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe - 'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Hagrid drew himself up proudly. "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you - gettin' things from Gringotts - knows he can trust me, see.  
    "Got everythin'? Come on, then."  
    Harry and Autumn followed Hagrid out onto the rock. The sky was clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The boat Uncle Vernon had hired was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom after the storm.  
    "How did you get here?" Harry asked, looking around for another boat.  
    "Flew," said Hagrid.  
    " _Flew_?"  
    "Yeah - but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh."  
    They settled into the boat, Autumn still staring at Hagrid, trying to imagine him flying.  
    "Seems a shame ter row, though," said Hagrid, giving the twins another of his sideways looks. "If I was ter - er - speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"  
    "Of course not," said Harry, eager to see more magic. Hagrid pulled out the pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and they sped off toward land.  
    "Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" Harry asked.  
    "Spells - enchantments," said Hagrid, unfolding his newspaper as he spoke. "They say there's dragons guardin' the high-security vaults. And yeh gotta find yer way - Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat."  
    Harry sat and thought about this while Hagrid read his newspaper, the Daily Prophet. Autumn, meanwhile, was reading the back page of the Daily Prophet, which was made up entirely of adverts (Cauldrons 50% off, today only! The new Nimbus Two-Thousand can be yours for only 800 Galleons!). Harry had learned from Uncle Vernon that people liked to be left alone when they read the paper, but it was very difficult, he'd never had so many questions in his life.  
    "Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered, turning the page.  
    "There's a Ministry of Magic?" Harry asked, before he could stop himself.  
    "'Course," said Hagrid. "They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if there ever was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."  
    "But what does a Ministry of Magic do?"  
    "Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."  
    "Why?"  
    "Why? Blimey, Harry, everyone'd be wantin' Magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."  
    At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbour wall. Hagrid folded up his newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps into the street.  
    Passerby stared a lot at Hagrid as they walked through the little town to the station. Autumn couldn't blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as anyone else, he kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things like parking meters Nd saying loudly, "See that, Harry? See that, Autumn? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?"  
    "Hagrid," said Harry, panting a bit as he ran to keep up, "did you say there are _dragons_ at Gringotts?"  
    "Well, so they say," said Hagrid. "Crikey, I'd like a dragon."  
    "You'd _like_ one?"  
    "Wanted one ever since I was a kid - here we go."  
    They had reached the station. There was a train to London in five minutes' time. Hagrid, who didn't understand "Muggle money," as he called it, gave the bill's to Harry so he could buy their tickets.  
    People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent.  
    "Still got yer letters, you two?" he asked as he counted stitches.  
    Harry and Autumn took their respective parchment envelopes out of their pockets.  
    "Good," said Hagrid. "There's a list there of everything yeh need."  
    Autumn unfolded a second piece of parchment she hadn't noticed the night before and read:

 

 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

UNIFORM  
First-year students will require:  
    1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
    2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
    3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
    4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)  
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags  
  
COURSE BOOKS  
All students should have a copy of each of the following:  
     _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ by Miranda Goshawk  
     _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot   
     _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling  
     _A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch  
     _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore  
     _Magical Draughts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger  
     _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander  
   _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection_ by Quentin Trimble  
  
OTHER EQUIPMENT  
    1 wand  
    1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
    1 set glass or crystal phials  
    1 telescope  
    1 set brass scales  
Students may also bring a cat OR an owl OR a toad

 

 

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

  
    "Can we get all this in London?" Harry wondered aloud, having just finished reading his own supply list.  
    "If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid.  
  
    Neither of the Potter twins had ever been to London before. Although Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, he was obviously not used to getting there in an ordinary way. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained that the seats were too small and the trains too slow.  
    "I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," he said as they climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops.  
    Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily; all Harry and Autumn had to do was keep close behind him. They passed bookshops and music shops, hamburger restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people. Could there really be piles of wizard gold curried miles beneath them? Were there really shops that sold spell books and broomsticks? Might this not all be some huge joke that the Dursleys had cooked up? If the twins hadn't known that the Dursleys had no sense of humour, they might have thought so; yet somehow, even though everything Hagrid had told them so far was unbelievable, they couldn't help trusting him.  
    "This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."  
    It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Autumn wouldn't have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big bookshop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, Autumn had the most peculiar feeling that only she, Harry, and Hagrid could see it. Before she could tell Harry this, Hagrid had steered them inside.  
    For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid, they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"  
    "Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hands on Harry's and Autumn's shoulders and making their knees buckle.  
    "Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at the twins, "is this - can this be -?"  
    The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.  
    "Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry and Autumn Potter... what an honour."  
    He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harry and Autumn and seized first Harry's hand and then Autumn's, tears in his eyes.  
    "Welcome back, Mr. and Miss Potter, welcome back."  
    Everyone was looking at them. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Hagrid was beaming.  
    Autumn fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. Being mute and rather short, she was often overlooked, so all these people staring at her was a tad unsettling.  
    Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, both Harry and Autumn found themselves shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.  
    "Doris Crockford, Miss and Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."  
    "So proud, Mr. and Miss Potter, so proud."  
    "Always wanted to shake your hand - I'm all of a flutter."  
    "Delighted, Mr. and Miss Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."  
    "We've seen you before!" said Harry as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement. "You bowed to us once in a shop."  
    "He remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? He remembers me!"  
    The twins shook hands again and again - Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.  
    A pale you nd man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.  
    "Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Harry, Autumn, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."  
    "P-P-Potters," stammered Professor Quirrell, smiling nervously and Harry and Autumn, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."  
    "What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"  
    "D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-Not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potters?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.  
    But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep the twins to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble.  
    "Must get on - lots ter buy. Come on, you two."  
    Doris Crockford shook Autumn's hand one last time, and Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash bin and a few weeds.  
    Hagrid grinned at the siblings.  
    "Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh - mind you, he's usually tremblin'."  
    "Is he always that nervous?" Harry wondered.  
    "Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books, but then he took a year off ter get some first-hand experience.... They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag - never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject - now, where's me umbrella?"  
    Vampires? Hangs? Autumn's head was swimming. Hagrid, meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the trash bin.  
    "Three up... two across..." he muttered. "Right, stand back, Harry, Autumn."  
    He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.  
    The brick he had touched quivered - it wriggled - in the middle, a small hole appeared - it grew wider and wider - a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.  
    Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."  
    He grinned at Harry's and Autumn's amazement. They stepped through the archway. Autumn looked quickly over her shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly back into a solid wall.  
    The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-Stirring - Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.  
    "Yeah, you'll both be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first."  
    Autumn wished she had about eight more eyes. She and Harry turned their heads in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, sixteen Sickles an ounce, they're mad...."  
    A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium - Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about Autumn's and Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Autumn heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand - fastest ever -" There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Autumn had never seen before, Windows stacked with barrels of bat spleen and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon....  
    "Gringotts," said Hagrid.  
    They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing behind its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was -  
    "Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about the same height as Autumn, meaning he was a head shorter than Harry. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, Autumn noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved on them:

 

 

     _Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

  
    "Like I said, yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it," said Hagrid.  
    A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid, Harry, and Autumn made for the counter.  
    "Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. and Miss Potter's safe."  
    "You have their key, sir?"  
    "Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of mouldy dog biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Autumn watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals.  
    "Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny gold key.  
    The goblin looked at it closely.  
    "That seems to be in order."  
    "An' I've got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen.  
    The goblin read the letter carefully.  
    "Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"  
    Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he, Harry, and Autumn followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.  
    "What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked.  
    "Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."  
    Griphook held the door open for them. Harry, who had expected more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. The climbed in - Hagrid with some difficulty - and were off.  
    At first they just hurt led through a maze of twisting passages. Autumn tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering.  
    Harry's and Autumn's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but they kept them wide open. Once, they thought they saw a burst of fire at the end of one passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late - they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.  
    "I never know," Harry called to Hagrid over the noise of the cart, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"  
    "Stalagmite's got an m in it," said Hagrid. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick."  
    Autumn would have told her brother that stalactites were the ones on the ceiling, but she was afraid to let go of the sides of the cart.   
    When the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, they got out and both Autumn and Hagrid had to lean against the wall to stop their knees from trembling.  
    Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry and Autumn gasped in unison. Inside were mounds of gold. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.  
    "All yours," smiled Hagrid.  
    All Harry's and Autumn's - it was incredible. The Dursleys couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from the former faster than blinking. How often had they complained how much the twins cost them to keep? And all that time there had been a small fortune belonging to them, buried deep under London.  
    Hagrid helped Autumn and Harry pile some of it into a bag.  
    "The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest sage fer yeh." He turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"  
    "One speed only," said Griphook.  
    They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine, and Harry leaned over the side to try and see what was down at the bottom, but Autumn grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him back. She did not need her brother to become a grease spot on the floor of a bank, thank you very much.  
    Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.  
    "Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.  
    "If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.  
    "How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked.  
    "About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin.  
    Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, Autumn was sure, and she leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least - but at first she thought it was empty. Then she noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Autumn longed to know what it was, but couldn't ask.  
    "Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.  
  
    One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Autumn didn't know where to run first now that she had bags full of money. She didn't have to know how many Galleons there were to a pound to know that she was holding more money than she'd ever had in her whole life - more money than even Dudley had ever had.  
    "Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harry, Autumn, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so Harry and Autumn entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous.  
    Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in a rather unattractive shade of mauve.  
    "Hogwarts, dears?" she said when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here - another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."  
    In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on stools next to each other. A third witch slipped a long robe over Autumn's head and began to pin it to the right length while Madam Malkin did the same for Harry.  
    "Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"  
    "Yes," said Harry.  
    "My father's next door buying my books and Mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."  
    The twins were strongly reminded of Dudley.  
    "Have you got your own broom?" the boy asked Harry. Evidently, he had not noticed Autumn.  
    "No," said Harry.  
    "Play Quidditch at all?"  
    "No," said Harry, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.  
    " _I_ do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my House, and I must say, I agree. Know what House you'll be in yet?"  
    "No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.  
    "Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"  
    "Mmm," said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting.  
    "I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and Autumn and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't some in.  
    "That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."  
    "Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"  
    "He's the gamekeeper," said Harry. He was liking the boy less and less every second.  
    "Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage - lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."  
    "I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly.  
    "Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"  
    "They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.  
    "Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding angry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"  
    "They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."  
    "I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, I imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"  
    But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool.  
    "Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.  
    Harry and Autumn, who had finished a few moments before Harry, left the shop. They were rather subdued as they ate the ice creams Hagrid had bought them (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts).  
    "What's up?" said Hagrid.  
    "Nothing," Harry lied. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Autumn cheered up a bit when she found a bottle of ink that changed colour as you wrote. When they had left the shop, she signed, **Hagrid, what's Quidditch?**  
    Harry translated for Hagrid.  
    "Blimey, Autumn, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know - not knowin about Quidditch!"  
    "Don't make us feel worse," said Harry. He told Hagrid about the pale boy in Madam Malkin's.  
    "- and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed in -"  
    "Yer not from a Muggle family. If he'd known who yeh were - he's grown up knowin' yer names if his parents are wizardin' folk. Yeh saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line o' Muggles - look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!"  
    "So what is Quidditch?"  
    "It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like - like football in the Muggle world - everyone follows Quidditch - played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls - sorta hard ter explain the rules."  
    "And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"  
    "School Houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but -"  
    "I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," said Harry gloomily.  
    "Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."  
    "Vol-, sorry - You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?"  
    "Years an' years ago," said Hagrid.  
    "They bought Harry's and Autumn's school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Autumn assumed these were grimoires or something of the like. Even Dudley, who had never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these. Hagrid almost had to drag Autumn away from _Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More)_ by Professor Vindictus Viridan.  
**I was trying to figure out how to curse Dudley**.  
    I'm not sayin' that's not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances," said Hagrid, once Harry told him what Autumn had signed. "An' anyway, yeh couldn' work any of them curses yet, yeh'll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level.  
    Hagrid wouldn't let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either ("It says pewter on yer list"), but Harry and Autumn each got a nice sets of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potions ingredients for the twins, Harry and Autumn examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and miniscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).  
    Outside the Apothecary, Hagrid checked Harry's and Autumn's lists again.  
    "Just yer wand left - oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh yer birthday presents.  
    Harry and Autumn went red with embarrassment.  
    "You don't have to -"  
    "I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get you yer animals. Not toads, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at - an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yeh an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."  
    Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry and Autumn now held two cages. Harry's held an extraordinary-looking snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing. Autumn's contained a beautiful tawny owl, also asleep. Harry couldn't stop stammering his thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell. Although she would have preferred a cat, Autumn smiled her thanks to Hagrid.  
    "Don' mention it," said Hagrid gruffly. "Don' expect either of you've had a lotta presents from them Dursleys. Just Ollivanders left know - only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wands."  
    A magic wand... this was what the twins had been really looking forward to.  
    The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.  
    A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. Autumn felt strangely as though she had entered a very strict library; she swallowed a lot of new questions that just occurred to her and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of her neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.  
    "Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Autumn jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he quickly got off the spindly chair.  
    An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.  
    "Hello," said Harry awkwardly.  
    "Ah, yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you two soon. Harry and Autumn Potter." It wasn't a question. "You, young lady, resemble your mother a great deal, but your brother has her eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."  
    Mr. Ollivander moved closer to the twins. Autumn shuffled her feet uncomfortably and wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.  
    "Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."  
    Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Autumn were almost nose to nose. Autumn could see herself reflected in those misty eyes.  
    "And that's where..."  
    Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Autumn's forehead with a long, white finger, then did the same to the identical scar on Harry's forehead.  
    "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out in the world to do...."  
    He shook his head and then, to Harry's and Autumn's relief, spotted Hagrid.  
    "Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again.... Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"  
    "It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.  
    "Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.  
    "Er - yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.  
    "But you don't use them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.  
    "Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly. Autumn noticed he gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke.  
    "Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well now, young Potters. Let me see." He pulled two long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which are your wand arms?"  
    "Er - well, we're right-handed," said Harry.  
    "Hold out your right arm, Mr. Potter. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head before doing the same to Autumn. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Miss and Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."  
    Autumn suddenly realized that the tape measures, which were measuring between  her and Harry's nostrils, were doing this on their own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.  
    "That will do," he said, and the tape measures crumpled into two neat heaps on the floor. "Right then, ladies first, Miss Potter. Try this one. Beech wood and unicorn hair. Nine inches. Rather brittle. Just take it and give it a wave."  
    Autumn took the wand and (feeling partially nervous, partially foolish) waved it around a bit. Boxes of wands shot off the shelves, and they all had to duck. Dropping the wand quickly, Autumn's face glowed red as she signed, **Sorry!**  
    "She says she's sorry," said Harry, who looked like he was trying to stifle a grin.  
    "No matter, no matter," said Mr. Ollivander, waving a pale hand airily as he handed Autumn another wand. "Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try -"  
    Autumn tried - but she had barely waved the wand when the glass in the Windows shattered and sprayed all over the street, frightening the witches and wizards doing their shopping.  
     **Sorry!** Autumn signed once more.  
    Mr. Ollivander simply flicked his wand at the shattered glass and said, "Reparo." The glass flew back into the window frame, not leaving a single crack. If Autumn hadn't seen it happen, she would never know that it had been broken.  
    Her attention was drawn back to Mr. Ollivander as he handed her a third wand.  
    "[Vine](http://pottermore.wikia.com/wiki/Vine) and [dragon heartstring](http://pottermore.wikia.com/wiki/Dragon_Heartstring). [Ten inches. Nice and flexible](http://pottermore.wikia.com/wiki/Wand_Lengths_%26_Flexibility). Go on, wave it around."  
    Feeling a tad apprehensive, Autumn took the wand and felt a sudden warmth in her fingers. She swished the wand through the air like one of those plastic sticks small children made soap bubbles with, and silver sparks streamed from the end. Hagrid and Harry clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, excellent! Very well done indeed..."  
    He put Autumn's wand back in its box and wrapped it in brown paper before handing it to her.  
    "This is a very powerful wand, Miss Potter," he said seriously, "and it is evident that you will become a very powerful witch. Do not abuse that power, or I fear dreadful things will happen...."  
    Slightly unnerved by his words, Autumn took the box and gave Mr. Ollivander an uneasy smile.  
    "Now, for you, Mr. Potter. How about -" He selected a wand from a shelf. "Ebony and dragon heartstring, ten inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."  
    Harry tried. And tried. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier seemed to become.  
    "Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere - I wonder - yes, why not - unusual combination - holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple.  
    Harry took the wand. He raised it above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air, and a stream if red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on the walls. Hagrid whooped, Autumn clapped, and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, Oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..."  
    He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious..."  
    "Sorry," said Harry, "but what's curious?"  
    Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.  
    "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather resides in your wand gave another feather - just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother - why, its brother gave you that scar."  
    Harry swallowed.  
    "Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember.... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter.... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things - terrible, yes, but great."  
    Harry shivered. He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much. He and Autumn each paid seven golf Galleons for their wands, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.


	5. Year 1

    Harry's and Autumn's last month with the Dursleys was wonderful. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't shut Harry or Autumn in their cupboard, force them to do anything, or shout at them - in fact, they didn't speak to them at all. Half terrified, half furious, they acted as though any chair with Harry or Autumn in it were empty. Dudley was now so scared of the twins he wouldn't stay in them same room as either one of them. A couple times, Autumn went into the sitting room or the kitchen just for the satisfaction of seeing him run away, his fat hands clasped to his bottom, as though he thought Autumn was going to give him another pig's tail. Part of Autumn knew this was wrong, but another part of her thought that Dudley deserved it after being so awful to her and Harry for the past ten years.  
    Mostly, though, she kept to her room, with Harry and their owls for company. Harry had decided to name his owl Hedwig, a name he had found in A History of Magic, and Autumn named hers Hecate, after the Greek goddess of magic. Their school books were very interesting. They lay in bed reading late into the night, Hedwig and Hecate swooping in and out of the window as they pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Petunia didn't come in to vacuum anymore, because the owls kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before they went to sleep, Harry or Autumn ticked off another day on the piece of paper they had pinned to the wall, counting down to September the first.  
    On the last day of August they thought they'd better speak to their aunt and uncle about getting to King's Cross the next day, so they went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show on television. Harry cleared his throat to let them know they were there, and Dudley screamed and ran from the room.  
    "Er - Uncle Vernon?"  
    Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening.  
    "Er - me and Autumn need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to - to go to Hogwarts."  
    Uncle Vernon grunted again.  
    "Would it be all right if you gave us a lift?"  
    Grunt. The twins supposed that meant yes.  
    "Thank you."  
    They were about to go back upstairs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke.  
    "Funny way to get to a wizards' school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?"  
    Neither twin said anything.  
    "Where is this school, anyway?"  
    "I don't know," said Harry, realizing this for the first time. He pulled his ticket (which Hagrid had given them after they left Ollivanders) out of his pocket.  
    "We just take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock," he read.  
    His aunt and uncle stared at him.  
    "Platform what?"  
    "Nine and three-quarters."  
    "Don't talk rubbish," said Uncle Vernon. "There is no platform nine and three-quarters."  
    "It's on our ticket."  
    "Barking," said Uncle Vernon. "Howling mad, the lot of them. You'll see. You just wait. All right, we'll take the two of you up to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."  
    "Why are you going to London?" Harry asked, trying to keep things friendly.  
    "Taking Dudley to the hospital," growled Uncle Vernon. "Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings."  
  
    Harry and Autumn woke at five o'clock the next morning and were too excited to go back to sleep. Autumn kicked Harry out of the bedroom so she could change, then they reversed roles while Harry got dressed. They checked their Hogwarts lists yet again to make sure they had everything they needed, saw that Hedwig and Hecate were safely shut in their respective cages, and then paced the room, waiting for the Dursleys to get up. Two hours later, Harry's and Autumn's huge, heavy trunks had been loaded into the Dursleys' car, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley into getting in the car with Harry and Autumn, and they had set off.  
    They reached King's Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon dumped the twins' trunks onto a cart and wheeled it into the station for them. Autumn thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.  
    "Well, there you are. Platform nine - platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"  
    He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all. This didn't worry Autumn in the slightest. She figured, from what Hagrid had said about keeping the wizarding world a secret from Muggles, that there must be some concealed entrance like the one to Diagon Alley.  
    "Have a good term," said Uncle Vernon with an even nastier smile. He left without another word. Autumn turned and saw the Dursleys drive away. All three of them were laughing. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to her brother, who was looking quite pale.  
     **We need to start looking for some sort of secret passage or something, like at Diagon Alley,** she told him.  
    "You mean we should start tapping the ticket inspector's stand with our wands?" Harry said blankly.  
    At that moment, a group of people passed just behind the Potters and they caught a few words of what they were saying..  
    "- packed with Muggles, of course -"  
    Harry and Autumn exchanged excited looks and swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like Harry's and Autumn's in front of him - and they had an owl.  
    Hearts hammering, the twins pushed their cart after them. The red-haired family stopped, and so did Harry and Autumn, just near enough to hear what they were saying.  
    "Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother.  
    "Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand. "Mum, can't I go..."  
    "You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."  
    What looked like the oldest boy marched toward platforms nine and ten. Autumn watched, careful not to blink in case she missed it - but just as the boy reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a swarm of tourists came swarming in front of him, and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished.  
    "Fred, you next," the plump woman said.  
    "I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"  
    "Sorry, George, dear."  
    "Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went his twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later, he had gone - but how had he done it?  
    Now the third brother was walking briskly toward the barrier - he was almost there - and then, quite suddenly, he wasn't anywhere.  
    There was nothing else for it.  
    "Excuse me," said Harry to the plump woman.  
    "Hello, dears," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too."  
    She pointed at the last of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose.  
    "Yes," said Harry. "The thing is - the thing is, we don't know how to -"  
    "How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Harry and Autumn nodded.  
    "Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run of your nervous. Go on, now, before Ron. Ladies first, of course."  
    Autumn swallowed nervously. She pushed her trolley around and stared at the barrier. It looked very solid. She looked back at Harry, who gave her an encouraging thumbs-up.  
    She started to walk toward it. People jostled her on their way to platforms nine and ten. Autumn walked more quickly. She was going to smash right into that barrier and then she'd be in trouble - leaning forward on her cart, she broke into a heavy run - the barrier was coming nearer and nearer - she wouldn't be able to stop - the cart was out of control - she was a foot away - she closed her eyes, ready for the crash -  
    It didn't come... she kept on running... she opened her eyes.  
    A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock. Autumn looked behind her and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. She had done it.  
    She moved out if the way just as Harry came barreling through the archway. He stared around in amazement just as she had.  
    "This is amazing," he said, a wide grin on his face.  
    Autumn grinned back, nodding in agreement.  
    Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats if every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.  
    The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Together, Harry and Autumn pushed their cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. They passed a round-faced boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again."  
    "Oh, Neville," an old woman sighed.  
    A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.  
    "Give us a look, Lee, go on."  
    The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.  
    Harry and Autumn pressed on through the crowd until they found an empty compartment near the end of the train. They put Hedwig and Hecate inside first and then began the task of heaving their trunks onto the train. They lifted Harry's trunk toward the door first but could hardly raise it, and Autumn almost dropped her end painfully on her foot.  
    "Want a hand?" it was one of the red-haired twins from the barrier.  
    "Yes, please," Harry panted.  
    "Oi, Fred! C'mere and help!"  
    With the twins' help, Harry's and Autumn's trunks were at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.  
    "Thanks," said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.  
    "What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar.  
    "Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you -?"  
    "They _are_ ," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry and Autumn.  
    "What?" said Harry.  
    " _The Potter twins_ ," chorused the boys.  
    "Oh, them," said Harry. "I mean, yes, we are."  
    The twins gas led at them, and Harry and Autumn felt themselves turning red. Then, to their relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door.  
    "Fred? George? Are you there?"  
    "Coming, Mum."  
    With a last look at Harry and Autumn, the twins hopped off the train.  
    Harry and Autumn sat down next to each other, with Harry sitting by the window where, half-hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.  
    "Ron, you've got something in your nose."  
    The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.  
    "Mum - geroff." He wriggled free.  
    "Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" said one of the twins.  
    "Shut up," said Ron.  
    "Where's Percy?" said their mother.  
    "He's coming now."  
    The oldest boy came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and Harry noticed a shiny red-and-gold badge on his chest with the letter _P_ on it.  
    "Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves -"  
    "Oh, are you a prefect, Percy?" said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."  
    "Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said the other twin. "Once -"  
    "Or twice -"  
    "A minute -"  
    "All summer -"  
    "Oh, shut up," said Percy the Prefect.  
    "How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said one of the twins.  
    "Because he's a _prefect_ ," said their mother fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a food term - send me an owl when you get there."  
    She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins.  
    "Now, you two - this year, behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've - you've blown up a toilet or -"  
    "Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."  
    "Great idea, though, thanks, Mum."  
    "It's not funny. And look after Ron."  
    "Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."  
    "Shut up," said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the Fred and George already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.  
    "Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?"  
    Harry and Autumn leaned back quickly so the red-haired family couldn't see them looking.  
    "You know those black-haired kids who were near us in the station? Know who they are?"  
    "Who?"  
    "The Potter twins!"  
    Harry and Autumn heard the little girl's voice.  
    "Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see Harry Potter, Mum, oh please...."  
    Autumn giggled quietly and wiggled her eyebrows at her brother, who blushed and shushed her quickly.  
    "You've already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in a zoo. Are they really, Fred? How do you know?"  
    "Asked them. Saw his scar. It's really there - like lightning."  
    "Poor dears - no wonder they were alone, I wondered. He was evened so polite when he asked how to get onto the platform.  
    "Never mind that, do you think they remember what You-Know-Who looks like?"  
    There mother suddenly became very stern.  
    "I forbid you to ask them, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though they need reminding of that on their first day of school.  
    "All right, keep your hair on."  
    A whistle sounded.  
    "Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them goodbye, and their younger sister began to cry.  
    "Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."  
    "We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."  
    "George!"  
    "Only joking, Mum."  
    The train began to move. Harry and Autumn saw the boys' mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed, then she fell back and waved.  
    Harry and Autumn watched the girl and her mother disappear  as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Autumn felt a great leap of excitement. She didn't know what she was going to - but it had to be better than what she was leaving behind.  
    "Is this really happening?" Harry murmured beside her.  
    Smiling somewhat nervously, Autumn nodded.  
    The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest red-headed boy came in.  
    "Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry. "Everywhere else is full."  
    Harry and Autumn shook their heads and the boy sat down. He glanced at the twins and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't looked. Autumn saw he still had a black mark on his nose.  
    "Hey, Ron."  
    The red-haired twins were back.  
    "Listen, we're going down the middle of the train - Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."  
    "Right," mumbled Ron.  
    "Harry, Autumn," said the other twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."  
    "Bye," said Harry and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.  
    "Are you really Harry and Autumn Potter?" Ron blurted out.  
    Harry and Autumn nodded.  
    "Oh - well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And have you really got - you know..."  
    He pointed at Harry's forehead.  
    Harry and Autumn pulled back their bangs to show their lightning scars. Ron stared.  
    "So that's where You-Know-Who -?"  
    "Yes," said Harry, "but neither of us can remember it."  
    "Nothing?" said Ron eagerly.  
    "Well - I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."  
    "Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry and Autumn for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again.  
    "Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him and Autumn.  
    "Er - yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."  
    "So you must know loads of magic already."  
    The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.  
    "I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"  
    "Horrible - well, not all of them. Our aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."  
    "Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in ours family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left - Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."  
    Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat grey rat, which was asleep.  
    "His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made prefect, but they couldn't aff- I mean, I got Scabbers instead."  
    Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.   
    Neither Harry nor Autumn thought there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. After all, they'd never had any money in their lives until a month ago, and Harry told Ron so, all about having to wear Dudley's old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to cheer Ron up.  
    "... and until Hagrid told us, we didn't know anything about being wizards or about our parents or Voldemort -"  
    Ron gasped.  
    "What?" said Harry.  
    " _You said You-Know-Who's name!_ " said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people -"  
    "I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," said Harry, I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn.... I bet," he added, voicing for the first something that had been worrying him a lot lately, "I bet I'm the worst in the class."  
    Autumn felt a bit relieved knowing that she wasn't the only one who felt like that.  
    "You won't be," said Ron. "There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough."  
    While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cow's and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past.  
    Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"  
    Harry and Autumn, who hadn't had any breakfast, leapt to their feet, but Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches.  
    "I'll get it," Harry told Autumn. "Do you want anything in particular?"  
    Autumn shook her head and sat back down while Harry went out into the corridor.  
    Autumn expected her brother to come back with as many Mars Bars as he could carry, but he didn't. What he did have were Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands, and a number of other strange things Autumn had never seen in her life.  
    Ron stared as Harry tipped it all onto an empty seat.  
    "Hungry, are you?"  
    "Starving," said Harry, biting the end off of a Liquorice Wand while Autumn busied herself with taking the wrapper off a Pumpkin Pasty.  
    Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."  
    Autumn looked down at the pasty in her hands then offered it to Ron.  
    "No, it's all right," said Ron, his ears reddening once more.  
    But Autumn, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with, forced it into Ron's hands. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron and Harry, eating their way through all the pasties, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay forgotten).  
    "What are these?" Harry asked Ron, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not really frogs, are they?"  
    "No," said Ron. "But check what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."  
    "What?"  
    "Oh, of course, you wouldn't know - Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect - famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Ptolemy or Agrippa."  
    Autumn watched as Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man's face. He wore half-moon spectacles, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and moustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.  
    "So _this_ is Dumbledore!" said Harry.  
    "Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa - thanks -"  
    Harry turned over his card and read:

* * *

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE  
 _CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS_

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work in alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

* * *

    Harry turned the card back over and saw, to his astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared.  
    "He's gone!"  
    Autumn flipped over her own Chocolate Frog card and saw that its occupant, Rowena Ravenclaw, was also nowhere to be seen.  
    "Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," said Ron. "He'll be back. No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her... do you want it, Autumn? You can start collecting."  
    Ron's eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped.  
    "Help yourself," said Harry. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos."  
    "Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Ron sounded amazed. "Weird!"  
    Ron and Harry were more interested in eating the frogs than looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards cards, but Autumn couldn't keep her eyes off them. Soon, she had not only Rowena Ravenclaw and Morgana, but Hengist of Woodcroft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, and Merlin. She finally tore her eyes away from the druidess Cliodna, who was scratching her nose, to open a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.  
    "You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Autumn. "When they say every flavour, they mean every flavour - you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger-flavoured one once."  
    Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner.  
    "Bleaaargh - see? Sprouts."  
    They had a good time eating the Every Flavour Beans. Autumn got applesauce, dark chocolate, baked bean, coffee, and sardine. Neither she nor Ron would even touch a funny grey one, but Harry was brave enough to nibble the end off it (it turned out to be pepper).  
    The countryside now flying last the window was becoming wilder. The near fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.  
    There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy Harry and Autumn had passed on platform nine and three-quarters came in. He looked tearful.  
    "Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"  
    When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"  
    "He'll turn up," said Harry.  
    "Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him..."  
    He left.  
    "Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."  
    The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap.  
    "He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."  
    He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.  
    "Unicorn hair's nearly poking out the end. Anyway -"  
    He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The goalless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.  
    "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.  
    "We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.  
    "Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." Her tone was challenging.  
    She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.  
    "Er - all right."  
    He cleared his throat.

_"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,  
Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."_

    He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed grey and fast asleep.  
    "Are you sure that's a _real_ spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, if course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"  
    She said all this very fast.  
    Autumn knew for a fact that Harry hadn't memorized their course books, and judging by Ron's stunned face, he hadn't either.  
    "I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.  
    "Harry Potter," said Harry. "And this is my sister, Autumn."  
    "Are you really?" said Hermione. "I know all about the two of you, of course - I got some extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."  
    Autumn was slightly unnerved upon learning that she was in books probably read by millions of people. In a way, she felt like she was being stalked.  
    "Are we?" said Harry, feeling dazed.  
    "Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do any of you know what House you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad.... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."  
    And she left, taking the toadless boy with her.  
    "Whatever House I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron. He threw his wand back into his trunk. "Stupid spell - George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."  
    "What House are your brother's in?" asked Harry.  
    "Gryffindor," said Ron. Gloom seemed to be settling on him again. "Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."  
    "That's the House Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?"  
    "Yeah," said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed.  
    "You know, I think the ends of Scabbers' whiskers are a bit lighter," said Harry. "So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?"  
    Autumn grinned at her brother's not-so-subtle attempt to take Ron's mind off Houses.  
    "Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles - someone tried to rob a high security vault."  
    Harry and Autumn stared.  
    "Really? What happened to them?"  
    "Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get 'round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."  
    Autumn turned this news over in her head. She was starting to get a prickle of fear every time You-Know-Who was mentioned. She supposed this was all part of entering the magical world, but it had been a lot more comfortable hearing "Voldemort" and not worrying.  
    "What're your Quidditch teams?" Ron asked.  
    "Er - we don't know any," Harry confessed.  
    "What!" Ron looked dumbfounded. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world -" And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money. He was just taking them through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it was Neville the toadless boy or Hermione Granger this time.  
    Three boys entered, and Autumn recognized the middle one at once: It was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Harry and Autumn with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.  
    "Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry and Autumn Potter are in this compartment. So it's you two, is it?"  
    "Yes," said Harry.  
    Autumn was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.  
    "Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."  
    Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.  
    "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."  
    He turned back to Harry and Autumn. "You'll soon find some Wizarding families are much better than others, Potters. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."  
    He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.  
    "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.  
    Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks.  
    "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit polluter you ok go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either."  
    He turned his head so he was looking only at Autumn. "What about you?"  
    She stared at him like he had grown a second head. Surely he wasn't expecting her to want to befriend him just after he'd blatantly insulted her parents and brother?  
    "What's the matter?" said Malfoy when she didn't answer. "Pixie got your tongue?"  
    "Shut up," said Harry, fists clenched. "It's not her fault she's mute."  
    "Language, Potter," drawled Malfoy. "I can see hanging around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid has already rubbed off on you."  
    Harry, Autumn, and Ron all stood up.  
    "Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair.  
    "Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.  
    "Unless you get out now," said Harry, more bravely than he felt, because Crabbe and Goyle were a lot bigger than him or Ron, and they were definitely bigger than Autumn.  
    "But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."  
    Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron - Ron leapt forward, but before he'd so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell.  
    Scabbers the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle - Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once. Perhaps they thought there were more rats lurking among the sweets, or perhaps they'd heard footsteps, because a second later, Hermione Granger had come in.  
    "What has been going on?" she said, looking at the sweets all over the floor and Ron picking Scabbers up by his tail.  
    "I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Harry and Autumn. He looked closer at Scabbers. "No - I don't believe it - he's gone back to sleep."  
    And so he had.  
    "So, you're mute?" Ron asked Autumn. "What does that mean?"  
    "She can't speak," said Harry.  
    "Really?" said Ron. "She can't speak at all? I think I'd go spare if I couldn't talk." He turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"   
    "You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"  
    "Scabbers has been fighting, not us," said Ron, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"  
    "All right - I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," said Hermione in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"  
    Ron glared at her as she left. Autumn peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down.  
    Autumn made the boys leave the compartment so she could change, then she went out into the corridor and the boys changed into the compartment. Ron's robes were a bit short for him, you could see his sneakers underneath them.  
    A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."  
    Autumn's stomach lurched with nerves. Harry was fiddling with his glasses, a nervous habit of his, and Ron was looking pale under his freckles. They crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor.  
    The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Autumn shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry and Autumn heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry, Autumn?"  
    Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.  
    "C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"  
    Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Autumn thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.  
    "Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."  
    There was a loud "Oooooh!"  
    The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.  
    "No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Autumn were followed into their boat by Ron and Hermione.  
    "Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!"  
    And the little fleet of boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.  
    "Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff, they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a beautiful curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along the dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.  
    "Oi, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.  
    "Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.  
    They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.  
    "Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"  
    Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.


	6. Year 1

    The door swung open at once. A tall, grey-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face, and Autumn's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.  
    "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.  
    "Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."  
    She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.  
    They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Autumn could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right - the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.  
    "Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.  
    "The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.  
    "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."  
    Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and Ron's smudged nose. In her peripheral vision, Autumn saw Harry nervously try to flatten his hair.  
    "I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."  
    She left the chamber. Autumn swallowed.  
    "How exactly do they sort us into Houses?" Harry asked Ron.  
    "Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."  
    Autumn's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But she didn't know any magic yet - what on earth would she have to do? She hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived. She looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who Autumn was beginning to think was something of a show-off; she was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Autumn tried hard not to listen to her. She'd never been more nervous, never, not even when she'd had to take home a school report home to the Dursleys saying that she'd somehow turned the teacher's wig blue. She kept her eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead her to her doom.  
    Then something happened that made her jump about a foot in the air - several people behind her screamed.  
    "What the -?"  
    She gasped. So did the people around her. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through my the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -"  
    "My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not even really a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"  
    A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.  
    Nobody answered.  
    "New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"  
    A few people nodded mutely.  
    "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old House, you know."  
    "Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start."  
    Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated through the opposite wall.  
    "Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."  
    Feeling oddly as though her legs had turned to lead, Autumn got in line behind Harry, with a boy with Sandy hair behind her, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.  
    Autumn had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in mid air over four long tables (Autumn guessed there was one for each House), where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Autumn looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. She heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_."  
    It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.  
    Autumn quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it I'm the house.  
    The hat must have something to do with our Sorting, Autumn reasoned. Noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, she stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:  
  
 _"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you've a ready kind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
Your in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_  
  
    The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.  
    "So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."  
    Autumn fidgeted nervously with the hem of her sleeve. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but she did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Autumn didn't feel brave or cunning or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a House for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for her.  
    Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.  
    "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"  
    A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, witch fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause -  
    "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.  
    The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Autumn saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.  
    "Bones, Susan!"  
    "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.  
    "Boot, Terry!"  
    "RAVENCLAW!"  
    The second table from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.  
    "Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Autumn could see Ron's twin brothers cat calling.  
    "Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Autumn's imagination, after all she'd heard about Slytherin, but she thought they looked like an unpleasant lot.  
    She was starting to feel definitely sick now. She remembered being picked for teams during gym at her Muggle school. She and Harry had always been picked last, not because they were no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked them.  
    "Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"  
    "HUFFLEPUFF!"  
    Sometimes, Autumn noticed, the hat shouted out the House at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Autumn in line, sat on the school for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.  
    "Granger, Hermione!"  
    Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.  
    "GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned.  
    A horrible thought struck Autumn, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if she wasn't chosen at all? What if she just sat there with the hat over her eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off her head and said there had obviously been a mistake and she'd better get back on the train? Would Harry go back with her? Or would he get sorted into a House and stay at Hogwarts without her?  
    When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."  
    Malfoy staggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: The hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"  
    Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.  
    There weren't many people left now.  
    "Moon"..., "Nott"..., "Parkinson"..., then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"..., then "Perks, Sally-Anne"..., and then, at last -  
    "Potter, Autumn!"  
    "Good luck," Harry whispered to her.  
    As Autumn stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.  
    " _Potter_ , did she say?"  
    " _The_ Autumn Potter?"  
    "Is her brother here too, do you think?"  
    The last thing Autumn saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited.  
    "Hmm," said a small voice in her ear. "Interesting, very interesting. Difficult, too. Not at all like your parents. A bit shy, but with a good measure of courage. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting.... So where shall I put you?"  
    Autumn gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin._  
    "Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that - no? Well, if you're sure - better be RAVENCLAW!"  
    Autumn heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. She took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Ravenclaw table. She was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, she hardly noticed that she was getting the loudest cheer yet. Several Ravenclaws stood up and shook hands with Autumn while several more clapped and whistled. Autumn sat down next to the ghost of a young woman, who nodded to her politely.  
    She could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest her sat Hagrid, who caught her eye and gave her the thumbs up. Autumn grinned back. And there, in the centre of the High Table, sat Albus Dumbledore. Autumn recognized him at once from the card Harry had gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore's silvery hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Autumn spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.  
    And there were only five people left to be sorted. Professor McGonagall called Harry's name, and Autumn gave him a thumbs up from her seat at the Ravenclaw table. She crossed her fingers under the table as he put on the hat, but after a few moments, the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"  
    Autumn's smile was a little sad as she watched him sit down next to the Weasley twins at the Gryffindor table.  
    "Thomas, Dean," a black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and sat down opposite Autumn. Then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green now. He put on the hat and it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" Looking relieved, Ron walked to the Gryffindor table and collapsed in the chair next to Harry's. "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin, then Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.  
    Autumn looked down at her empty gold plate. She had only just realized how hungry she was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.  
    Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.  
    "Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!  
    "Thank you!"  
    He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Autumn didn't know whether to laugh or not.  
    "He seems a bit mad," commented Lisa Turpin. "What do you suppose that meant? Ooh, potatoes!"  
    Autumn's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of her were now piled with food. She had never seen so many things she liked to eat in on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some reason, peppermint humbugs.  
    The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry or Autumn, but they'd never been allowed to eat as much as they liked. Dudley had always taken anything that either of them really wanted, even if it made him sick. Autumn piled her plate with everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.  
    "Hungry, are you?" said Lisa.  
    Autumn swallowed a mouthful of pork and nodded.  
    "Hello," said a dreamy voice on Autumn's left.  
    The speaker was a girl with straggly, waist-length, dirty-blonde hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of corks.  
    "My name is Luna Lovegood," she continued in the same dreamy tone. "And you're Autumn Potter." Her eyes drifted toward Lisa. "I don't know who you are."  
    "Lisa Turpin," said Lisa, reaching across the table to shake Luna's hand. "Nice to meet you.  
    "So, are you famous or something?" Lisa asked Autumn. "Everybody seemed to think it was a big deal when your name was called."  
    Autumn nodded.  
    "What did you do to get famous?"  
    This was why Autumn hated meeting new people. They asked so many questions, and when Autumn didn't answer, they thought she was being rude.  
    "Come on, you can tell me," said Lisa, misunderstanding Autumn's silence. "Was it something weird? I promise I won't make fun."  
    Tapping her lips, Autumn shook her head.  
    "You... aren't allowed to tell me?" guessed Lisa.  
    Autumn shook her head again.  
    "Can't tell me?"  
    A short nod affirmed Lisa's guess.  
    "Why not?"  
    The younger Potter twin just sat there helplessly, physically unable to explain.  
    Her brow furrowed like she was thinking hard, Lisa frowned at Autumn. "Are you mute?"  
    Autumn's mouth fell open in surprise. Never had anyone correctly guessed the reason behind Autumn's silent demeanour. She nodded slowly.  
    "You could tell me through sign language," suggested Lisa. "I know sign language really well.  
    "So, how did you become famous?"  
     **Apparently, I defeated a really evil Dark wizard when I was a baby. I barely remember it, though.**  
    Lisa looked impressed.  
     **Why do you know sign language?**  
    "My little sister is deaf," Lisa explained. "Kayla - that's my sister - uses sign language to talk, so I had to learn it. What about you, Luna? Do you know sign language?"  
    "Oh, yes," said Luna. "Daddy says it's a good thing to know as many languages as you can. I'm also fluent in Gobledegook and French."  
     **What is Gobledegook?** Autumn asked.  
    "It's the language that goblins speak."  
    Lisa's brown eyes widened. "Do you think you could teach me to speak goblin?"  
    "Maybe," said Luna, "but it's a very difficult language to learn. It took me almost five years to learn it."  
    Autumn frowned. If Luna was eleven (Autumn was only guessing at her age), and it took her five years to learn Gobledegook, then she would have been only six years old when she started learning it.  
     **It can't be that difficult,** signed Autumn, **if a six year old can learn it.**  
    Luna tilted her head to the side like a confused puppy. "It's difficult for a six year old."  
    Autumn couldn't argue with that.  
    When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from our plates, leaving them as sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavour imaginable, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam donuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding...  
    "I love pudding," said Luna happily as she heaped some onto her plate. Lisa took some of everything.  
    As Autumn helped herself to a chocolate éclair, the talk turned to their families.  
    "My parents are both Muggles," said Lisa. "They weren't very pleased when I got my letter, because they're both devout Christians, so they think witchcraft is dealing with the Devil and all. Of course, it's obvious - to me, at least - that witchcraft has nothing to do with the Devil or Hell or any of it, but each to their own, I guess."  
    "I'm a pureblood," said Luna, "but my mother died when I was very young. She was an extraordinary witch, and she did like to experiment, but one of her spells went badly wrong."  
    Awkward silence followed this, as nobody was quite sure what to say to the blonde girl. Did they offer their condolences, even though the event had clearly happened long ago? Or did they simply brush it off, because it had nothing to do with them?  
    Autumn patted Luna's arm awkwardly and signed, **I'm sorry.**  
    "Don't be," said Luna. "It isn't your fault she died."  
    The awkwardness melted away and the conversation resumed. Autumn, who was beginning to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from hid goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.  
    It happened very suddenly. The hook nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Autumn's eyes - and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Autumn's forehead.  
    Autumn clapped a hand to her forehead.  
    "Are you all right?" asked the boy on Autumn's right. He had blonde hair and a pin on his chest like Percy Weasley, but his had an eagle on it instead of a lion.  
    Autumn nodded slowly.   
    The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Autumn had gotten from the teacher's look - a feeling Autumn didn't like at all. Autumn watched the teacher for a while, but he didn't look at her again.  
    At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.  
    "Ahem -- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.  
    "First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."  
    Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.  
    "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.  
    "Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing to their house teams should contact Madame Hooch.  
    "And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."  
    Autumn's brother laughed, but he was one of the few who did.  
    "He's not serious?" Lisa muttered to the blonde boy with the prefect pin.  
    "Must be," he said, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he ought to tell us prefects, though."  
    "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Autumn noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.  
    Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.  
    "Everyone pick their favourite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"  
    And the school bellowed:  
  
 _"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with shabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
Just do your best, we'll do the best,  
And learn until our brains all rot."_  
  
    Autumn, of course, remained silent. Rather than be embarrassed or upset because of her lack of voice, Autumn was fascinated and hopeful.  
    Those _words_! They'd just shot straight out of the end of Dumbledore's wand, and everybody could see them! Was that something that all witches and wizards were taught? Was it taught here at Hogwarts? Would Autumn, for the first time ever, be able to talk to anyone she pleased?  
    Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped the loudest.  
    "Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"  
    People started standing up and leaving the hall. Autumn lingered near the Ravenclaw table, unsure of where she was supposed to go.  
    Glancing at the Gryffindor table, Autumn tried to catch Harry's eye. When he finally noticed her, she signed, **Good night.** He smiled and mouthed _s_ _leep tight_. Autumn smiled back and signed, **Don't let the bedbugs bite.**  
    Autumn felt a bit more confident now that she and Harry had completed the nighttime ritual they'd been performing since they were little, but she still didn't know where to go.  
    "Ravenclaws!" she heard an authoritative voice call. "Ravenclaws this way!"  
    She and the rest of the first year Ravenclaws followed the tall blonde prefect out of the Great Hall and up a marble staircase. Autumn's legs were like lead again, but only because she was so tired and full of food. She was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice the prefect lead them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and only when they reached the top of a particularly spectacular spiral staircase did they come to a halt.  
    A simple wooden door that looked rather worse for wear stood in front of them. It had no doorknob, only a brass doorknocker in the shape of an eagle. The blonde prefect rapped the knocker twice against the wood, and a pleasant female voice issued from it: "I often murmur, but never speak. I have a bed, but never sleep. I always run, but never walk. I have a mouth, but never talk. What am I?"  
    The prefect turned to face the first years. "Can any of you solve the riddle?"  
    It was only a few seconds before a boy with caramel-coloured hair raised a hand. The blonde boy pointed at him, and the former said hesitantly, "Is it a river?"  
    "Let's find out," said the blonde prefect. He turned back to the brass knocker and said confidently, "A river."  
    "Correct," said the knocker, and the door swung open.  
    The first years filed inside, looking around with great interest. They were in a large, circular room filled with bookshelves, armchairs, and tables. A chalkboard covered in words written in white chalk took up a good part of the wall. Arched windows decorated the rest of the wall. Autumn glanced up and saw that the ceiling was dotted with stars, similarly to the ceiling of the Great Hall.  
    "First years over here, please," said the blond boy. He waited until all the first years were gathered in front of the fireplace, then he began to speak.  
    "I'm Prefect Robert Hilliard, and I'm delighted to welcome you to Ravenclaw house. Our emblem is the eagle, which soars where others cannot climb; our house colors are blue and bronze, and our common room is found at the top of Ravenclaw Tower, behind a door with an enchanted knocker. The arched windows set into the walls of our circular common room look down at the school grounds: the lake, the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch pitch and the Herbology gardens. No other house in the school has such stunning views.  
    "Without wishing to boast, this is the house where the cleverest witches and wizards live. Our founder, Rowena Ravenclaw, prized learning above all else – and so do we. Unlike the other houses, who all have concealed entrances to their common rooms, we don't need one. The door to our common room lies at the top of a tall, winding staircase. It has no handle, but an enchanted bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. When you rap on the door, this knocker will ask you a question, and if you can answer it correctly, you are allowed in. This simple barrier has kept out everyone but Ravenclaws for nearly a thousand years.  
    "Some first-years are scared by having to answer the eagle's questions, but don't worry. Ravenclaws learn quickly, and you'll soon enjoy the challenges the door sets. It's not unusual to find twenty people standing outside the common room door, all trying to work out the answer to the day's question together. This is a great way to meet fellow Ravenclaws from other years, and to learn from them – although it is a bit annoying if you've forgotten your Quidditch robes and need to get in and out in a hurry. In fact, I'd advise you to triple-check your bag for everything you need before leaving Ravenclaw Tower.  
    "Another cool thing about Ravenclaw is that our people are the most individual – some might even call them eccentrics. But geniuses are often out of step with ordinary folk, and unlike some other houses we could mention, we think you've got the right to wear what you like, believe what you want, and say what you feel. We aren't put off by people who march to a different tune; on the contrary, we value them!  
    "Speaking of eccentrics, you'll like our Head of house, Professor Filius Flitwick. People often underestimate him, because he's really tiny (we think he's part elf, but we've never been rude enough to ask) and he's got a squeaky voice, but he's the best and most knowledgeable Charms master alive in the world today. His office door is always open to any Ravenclaw with a problem, and if you're in a real state he'll get out these delicious little cupcakes he keeps in a tin in his desk drawer and make them do a little dance for you. In fact, it's worth pretending you're in a real state just to see them jive.  
    "Ravenclaw house has an illustrious history. Most of the greatest wizarding inventors and innovators were in our house, including Perpetua Fancourt, the inventor of the lunascope, Laverne de Montmorency, a great pioneer of love potions, and Ignatia Wildsmith, the inventor of Floo powder. Famous Ravenclaw Ministers for Magic include Millicent Bagnold, who was in power on the night that Harry and Autumn Potter survived the Dark Lord's curse and defended the wizarding celebrations all over Britain with the words, ‘I assert our inalienable right to party.' There was also Minister Lorcan McLaird, who was a quite brilliant wizard, but preferred to communicate by puffing smoke out of the end of his wand. Well, I did say we produce eccentrics. In fact, we are also the house that gave the wizarding world Uric the Oddball, who used a jellyfish for a hat. He's the punch line of a lot of wizarding jokes.  
    "As for our relationship with the other three houses: well, you've probably heard about the Slytherin. They're not all bad, but you'd do well to be on your guard until you know them well. They've got a long house tradition of doing whatever it takes to win – so watch out, especially in Quidditch matches and exams.  
    "The Gryffindor are OK. If I had a criticism, I'd say Gryffindors tend to be show-offs. They're also much less tolerant than we are of people who are different; in fact, they've been known to make jokes about Ravenclaws who have developed an interest in levitation, or the possible magical uses of troll bogies, or ovomancy, which (as you probably know) is a method of divination using eggs. Gryffindors haven't got our intellectual curiosity, whereas we've got no problem if you want to spend your days and nights cracking eggs in a corner of the common room and writing down your predictions according to the way the yolks fall. In fact, you'll probably find a few people to help you.  
    "As for the Hufflepuffs, well, nobody could say they're not nice people. In fact, they're some of the nicest people in the school. Let's just say you needn't worry too much about them when it comes to competition at exam time.  
    "I think that's nearly everything. Oh yes, our house ghost is the Grey Lady. The rest of the school thinks she never speaks, but she'll talk to Ravenclaws. She's particularly useful if you're lost, or you've mislaid something.  
    "I'm sure you'll have a good night. Our dormitories are in turrets off the main tower; our four-poster beds are covered in sky blue silk eiderdowns and the sound of the wind whistling around the windows is very relaxing.  
    "And once again: well done on becoming a member of the cleverest, quirkiest and most interesting house at Hogwarts."  
    Robert Hilliard began directing the boys up on staircase, so Autumn, Lisa, and Luna headed up the other staircase. It led to another circular room that had five beds with curved headboards.  
    Lisa threw herself face-first onto the nearest bed and began to snore theatrically. Autumn giggled, and Lisa lifted her face off the mattress so she could giggle, too.  
    "Goodnight, Autumn," said Lisa, crawling into bed properly. "Goodnight, Luna."  
    "Goodnight," said Luna dreamily. "Don't let the Nargles bite."  
    Wondering what on earth Nargles could be, Autumn and Lisa exchanged confused glances as Luna swung her bed curtains shut. Lisa shrugged, and Autumn shrugged back.  
    Without bothering to change into her nightclothes, Autumn crawled into the bed next to Lisa's and pondered over what McGonagall had said before the Sorting Ceremony.  
     _"Your house will be like your family."_ It had taken Autumn a long time to grasp the concept of family, because, other than Harry, she had never really had one. The Dursleys had made it clear from the time she and Harry were young that they were not part of their family.   
    Autumn remembered when she was in primary school, before she had understood that the Dursleys didn't like her. She had made Aunt Petunia a Mother's Day present at school and brought it back to number four, Privet Drive, beaming proudly as she presented the heart made out of her handprints. Aunt Petunia had ripped it from her hands, thrown it in the trash, and sent Autumn to her cupboard. Little five-year-old Autumn had cried for over an hour afterward.  
    No, Autumn was not well acquainted with the term "family," but she thought that here, a place full of magic and people like here, that she could become so.


	7. Year 1

    "There, look."  
    "Where?"  
    "Next to the blonde girl with the weird necklace."  
    "The short one?"  
    "Did you see her face?"  
    "Did you see her _scar_?"  
    Whispers followed Autumn from the moment she left her dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a second look at her, or doubled back to pass her in the corridors again, staring. Autumn wished they wouldn't, because she was trying to concentrate on finding her way to class.  
    There were one hundred forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked them politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Autumn was sure the coats of armour could walk.  
    The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. The Fat Friar and Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, were always happy to point new students in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"  
    Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Harry and Ron managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first day. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.  
    Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-coloured creature with bulging, lamplike eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear,wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick.  
    And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Autumn quickly found out, than waving your and saying a few funny words.  
    They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.  
    Easily the most boring class (to everyone except Lisa, that is) was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staffroom fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.  
    Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher and Head of Ravenclaw House, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took roll call, and when he reached Autumn's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.  
    Professor McGonagall was again different. Autumn had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.  
    "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."  
    Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. Autumn had thought that Transfiguration was going to be fun because it was one of the few classes she shared with her brother, but it was more difficult than she had thought. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile.  
    The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one, when Stephen Cornfoot, the boy who had answered the bronze doorknocker's question, asked sceptically to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.  
    Autumn's fear had, unfortunately, come true, and she was miles behind everyone else - but not because she had grown up with Muggles. Foolishly, Autumn had overlooked the fact that to cast spells, one needed to say an incantation or charm. Being mute, Autumn could not do this (obviously) and the only thing she could think of to fix the problem was to think the incantation as hard as she could and perform the wand movements. Also unfortunate was the fact that this had so far accomplished nothing except for Autumn concentrating so hard that she turned a purple colour highly reminiscent of Uncle Vernon.  
    Friday was an important day for Autumn, Lisa, and Luna. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.  
     **What classes do we have today?** Autumn asked Lisa, who had taken it upon herself to memorize their schedules.  
    "Joint Potions," said Lisa. Joint classes were when students from all four houses had a class together. "The Potions Master is head of Slytherin House. Everyone says he favours them - we'll be able to find out if it's true."  
    "I love joint classes," said Luna in that dreamy tone she seemed to say everything in. "It's so interesting to observe the way people from other houses act."  
    Just then, someone tapped Autumn on the shoulder. Autumn turned around and saw that it was Professor McGonagall.  
    "Would you come with me to my office for a moment, Miss Potter?" she asked.  
    "Is Autumn in trouble?" blurted Lisa.  
    McGonagall raised an eyebrow at her.  
    "No, she is not, Miss Turpin, and I fail to see what this has to do with you. Now, Miss Potter, please follow me."  
    Autumn followed Professor McGonagall to her office, which was on the fifth floor. The door closed automatically behind her.  
    Professor McGonagall sat down behind her desk. Indicating a tartan tin of cookies lying on top of one of the piles of papers on her desk, she said, "Have a biscuit, Miss Potter. And sit down."  
    Autumn obediently took a cookie and sank into a chair opposite her, waiting expectantly for Professor McGonagall to explain why she was here.  
    "Miss Potter, it has come to our - the teachers' - attention that you are mute," said Professor McGonagall. "As I am sure you have discovered, it is very difficult to cast spells nonverbally, which means without speaking. There are, however, possible treatments we can offer you that may counteract whatever it is that is preventing your ability to speak."  
    Autumn's mouth fell open. She started to sign, **How -** but Professor McGonagall held up a hand to stop her.  
    "I should tell you now that none of these treatments are guaranteed to work - in fact, some of them are highly unlikely to work, so please do not get your hopes up."  
    Checking her watch (it was a very curious watch, with planets moving along the edge instead of numbers), Professor McGonagall said, "Hurry along, now, you don't want to miss Potions."  
    Mouth still ajar in delighted shock, Autumn left the professor's study.  
    Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder in here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.  
    Autumn slipped into the seat Lisa and Luna had saved for her just as Professor Snape started taking the roll call.  
    "What did McGonagall want?" whispered Lisa.  
     **Tell you later,** Autumn signed.  
    Snape completely skipped Autumn's name, but paused at Harry's.  
    "Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - _celebrity_."  
    Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and made you think of dark tunnels.  
    "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - _if_ you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."  
    More silence followed this little speech. Autumn and Lisa exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead. Luna smiled serenely and whispered, "That was very poetic."  
    "Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"  
     _Powdered root of what to an infusion of what?_ Autumn was about to sign that she didn't know when she realized that he was looking at Harry, who was sitting in front of her. Next to him, Hermione's hand shot into the air.  
    "I don't know, sir," said Harry.  
    Snape's lips curled into a sneer.  
    "Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything."  
    He ignored Hermione's hand.  
    "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"  
    Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without leaving her seat, but it was obvious from his silence that Harry had no clue what a bezoar even was. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.  
    "I don't know, sir."  
    "Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"  
    In Autumn's opinion, Snape was being rude and unfair. Did he expect Harry to remember _everything_ in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_?  
    Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.  
    "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"  
    At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.  
    "I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"  
    A few people laughed, Autumn included. Snape, however, was not pleased.  
    "Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"  
    There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."  
    Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville Longbottom had somehow managed to melt Seamus Finnigan's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaning in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.  
    "Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"  
    Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.  
    "Take him to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.  
    "You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."  
    Autumn saw Harry open his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron.  
    "Don't push it," he muttered, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."  
    As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Autumn and Lisa caught up with a glum-looking Harry and Ron (Luna had gone back to the common room to look for something called a Blibbering Humdinger.)  
     **I have good news,** Autumn signed excitedly. **This morning, Professor McGonagall spoke to me, and you won't believe what she said!**  
    "What did she say?" asked Harry.  
     **She told me that there's a treatment I can take that would make me able to talk!**  
    Lisa gasped. "Are you serious?"  
    "That's amazing!" exclaimed Harry, pulling his sister into a hug. "You should tell Hagrid; Ron and I were just about to go visit him anyway, you could come with us."  
    So they made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A crossbow and a pair of giant galoshes were outside the front door.  
    When Harry knocked, they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, " _Back_ , Fang - _back_."  
    Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.  
    "Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."  
    He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.   
    There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.  
    "Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.  
    "This is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.  
    "Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest. And who're you?"  
    "Lisa Turpin, sir," said Lisa confidently, holding out her right hand for him to shake.  
    "There's no need fer this 'sir' business. Just call me Hagrid, ev'ryone does," said Hagrid, his enormous hand practically swallowing hers.  
    The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but Harry, Autumn, Lisa, and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons and Autumn's news. Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes.  
    All four children were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git."  
    "An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up yer the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her - Filch puts her up to it."  
    Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid told Harry not to worry about Snape's foul behaviour towards Harry, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.  
    "But he really seemed to _hate_ me."  
    "Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"  
    Autumn couldn't help but notice that Hagrid hadn't quite met Harry's eyes when he said that.  
    "How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot - great with animals."  
    Harry wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid, Autumn, and Lisa all about Charlie's work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cosy. It was a cutting from the _Daily Prophet_ :  
  


** Gringotts Break-In Latest **

    Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark witches or wizards unknown.  
    Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.  
    "But we're not telling us what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.  
  
    Harry remembered Ron telling him on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date.  
    "Hagrid!" said Harry, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my and Autumn's birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"  
    There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet his eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake. Harry read the story again. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred  and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?  
    As Harry, Autumn, Ron, and Lisa walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse, Harry thought none of his lessons he'd had so far had given him as much to think about as tea with Hagrid. Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell Harry?


	8. Year 1

    Autumn's first treatment was a fizzy purple potion that tasted like raw spaghetti and had made Autumn pass out the moment it made contact with her lips. Once she had come to again, Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, had assured her that that particular potion often had that effect on people.  
    "Now, in a few days, you can start trying to speak," the witch had told her, "and remember to come back in one week for a check-up."  
    That week was up, and to Autumn's not entirely unexpected dismay, she was still mute. She was hoping the next treatment option would work better; she was going to the hospital wing to pick it up after her first flying lesson.  
    At three-thirty that afternoon, Autumn, Lisa, and Luna, and all the other first year Ravenclaws hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the Forbidden Forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.  
    The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were already there, as were forty or so broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Autumn had heard some of the older students complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.  
    A minute later, the Gryffindors and the flight instructor, Madam Hooch, arrived. Madam Hooch had short grey hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.  
    "Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."  
    Autumn glanced down at her broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.  
    "Stick out your right hand over the broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say `Up!`"  
    As the students chorused, "Up," Autumn thought _up_ forcefully. To her immense surprise and pleasure, the nonverbal command worked for once, and her broom jumped into her hand. It was one of the few that did; Harry and Malfoy were the only other people whose brooms had responded with the same amount of enthusiasm. Lisa got hers on her second try, but Luna's broom just wouldn't budge, and she ended up picking it up the Muggle way.  
    Once they all had their brooms firmly in hand, Madam Hooch showed them how to mount our brooms without sliding off the end. She walked up and down the rows, correcting their grips. Autumn and Lisa were delighted when she told Malfoy that he'd been doing it wrong for years.  
    “Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,” said Madam Hooch. “Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet off the ground, and touch back down. On my whistle – three – two –”  
    But Neville Longbottom, nervous and jumpy and scared of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had even touched Madam Hooch's lips.  
    “Come back, boy!” she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle – twelve feet – twenty feet. Autumn glimpsed his pale, scared face look down at the ground far below him, saw him gasp, slip sideways off his broom and –  
    WHAM – a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay face down on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, drifting toward the Forbidden Forest and out of sight.  
    Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.  
    “Broken wrist,” she muttered. “Come on, boy – it's all right, up you get.”  
    She turned to the rest of the class.  
    “None of you are to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear.”  
    Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.  
    No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.  
    “Did you see his face, the great lump?”  
    The other Slytherins joined in.  
    “Shut up, Malfoy,” snapped Parvati Patil.  
    "Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" taunted Pansy Parkinson. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."  
    “Look!” said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. “It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him.”  
    He held up a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke. It glittered in the afternoon sun.  
    “Give that here, Malfoy,” Harry said quietly. Everybody stopped talking to watch.  
    Malfoy smiled nastily.  
    “I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find – how about on the roof?”  
    “Give it here!” Harry shouted, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying – he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak tree, he called, “Come and get it, Potter!”  
    Harry grabbed his broom.  
    Autumn grabbed his sleeve and gave him a look that said _Don't you dare._ He shrugged her off and mounted his broom. He kicked off hard from the ground and up, up, up he soared. A few girls screamed and gasped. Ron Weasley let out an admiring whoop.  
    Harry turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy. Malfoy looked stunned.  
    "Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off your broom!"  
    "Oh, yeah?" Malfoy sneered, but he looked worried.  
    Harry leaned forward on his broom and shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just managed to get out of the way in time. Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady; a few people were clapping. Autumn was torn between being impressed by Harry's knack for flying and worrying that he was going to get hurt.  
    "No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.  
    The same thought seemed to have occurred to Malfoy. "Have it your way, then!" he shouted, and threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.  
    Harry leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down – next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball – he stretched out his hand – a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently on the grass with the smokey marble clutched safely in his fist.  
    “HARRY POTTER!”  
    Autumn's heart sank faster than Harry had just dived. Professor McGonagall was running toward them.  
    “Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –” Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, “– how dare you – might have broken your neck –”  
    “It wasn't his fault, Professor –”  
    “Be quiet, Miss Turpin.”  
    “But Malfoy –”  
    “That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, come with me.”  
    Autumn caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as Harry left, trailing in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode toward the castle.  
    As soon as Harry and McGonagall were out of earshot, Malfoy said gleefully, "I bet he'll be expelled!"  
    Autumn's heart sank even further. What if Harry was expelled? What then? Autumn would be at Hogwarts alone – well, not exactly alone (she still had Lisa and Luna), but she and Harry had stuck together since they were toddlers. They couldn't be separated now, not when their lives had finally started changing for the better.  
    Lisa caught sight of Autumn's expression and hastily said, "Shut your face, Malfoy."  
    "What are going to do if I don't?" sneered Malfoy. "Throw books at me? Mind your own business, Ravenclaw."  
    It was a good thing Madam Hooch chose that moment to return, because Lisa looked like she was about to hit Malfoy.  
    "Let's try this again, shall we?" said Madam Hooch. "Everyone mount their brooms. On my whistle, kick off. Three – two – one –" The piercing whistle split the air. Everyone kicked off from the ground, hovered for a dew seconds, and touched back down.  
    "That was excellent," said Madam Hooch. "Let's see if we can do it again." They repeated their actions once, then Madam Hooch directed their attention over to a large, wooden crate.  
    "For those of you who don't know, Quidditch is the main sport of the wizarding world. Today, I will be explaining the basics of the game."  
    She knelt down to the crate and picked up a red ball about the size of a soccer ball.  
    "This is called the Quaffle. Three players called Chasers pass the Quaffle to one another and try to get it through the other team's hoops." She indicated the three metal poles on either end of the field with hoops on the ends. "Ten points go to the team who puts the Quaffle through one of the hoops.  
    "The Keeper flies around their team's hoops. Their job is to prevent the other team's Chasers from scoring."  
    Madam Hooch put the Quaffle back in the crate and picked up a short, wooden bat.   
    "This is a Beater's bat. A Beater's job is to protect the other players from the two Bludgers."  
    "What's a Bludger?" said a Hufflepuff girl.  
    "That's a very good question, Miss Abbott. I think I'll do a demonstration for this ball. Who – ah, Miss Potter, would you come to the front?"  
    Malfoy stuck his foot out as Autumn made her way to the front, and she tripped over it.  
    "Oh, _sorry_ ," he drawled while his cronies sniggered behind him. "You're just so short and shrimpy, I didn't see you there."  
    Autumn's cheeks turned red with anger and embarrassment. If there was one thing she hated, it was jabs at her height. She straightened her robes and stalked to the front to stand by Madam Hooch.  
    Handing Autumn the Beater's bat, Madam Hooch said, "All right, Miss Potter. When I let the Bludger loose" – she gestured at a metal ball in the crate, which seemed to be struggling against the restraints that held it in place – "I want you to hit it as hard as you can."  
    "She's so _tiny_ ," whispered Malfoy loudly. "There's no _way_ she'll be able to hit a Bludger."  
    Autumn glanced sharply at Malfoy, who smirked at her.  
    An idea sprung to life in the back of Autumn's mind. She worried her lower lip for a moment, considering the morality – or lack thereof – of said idea, but then she made up her mind and nodded at Madam Hooch to show that she understood.  
    The flight instructor clapped Autumn on the shoulder and knelt down to the crate once more.  
    "This," she said as she undid the straps, "is a Bludger."  
    At once, the black ball rose high, high into the air, then began to descend at a rapid pace. Autumn moved backwards to intercept it, her eyes flicking between Malfoy and the Bludger, quickly estimating distances, angles, and arcs. Then Autumn swung the Beater's bat with all her might, grunting a bit on impact. She heard the thunk of wood against metal, then another thunk and a cry of pain that told her the Bludger had hit its target.  
    "My arm!" Malfoy wailed.  
    Madam Hooch wrestled the Bludger back into the crate before examining Malfoy's arm.  
    "That's a dislocated shoulder," Madam Hooch said grimly. "Potter, would you escort Malfoy to the hospital wing for me? I do need to finish this lesson today."  
    Autumn didn't really want to, but she didn't really have a choice.  
    When Autumn passed Lisa and Luna, they gave her a thumbs-ups. Autumn winked at them.  
    "I'll get you for this, Shrimpy," Malfoy hissed at Autumn as they left the Quidditch pitch. "This will take ages to heal. I'll get you back, mark my words."  
     _Yeah?_ Autumn thought. _You and what army?_  
  
    As it turned out, Malfoy's injury did not take ages to heal. All it took was a flick of Madam Pomfrey's wand, and Malfoy's arm was as good as new. Of course, since it was Malfoy, he milked it for all it was worth.  
    "The pain," he moaned. "Oh, the pain!"  
    Madam Pomfrey tut-tutted as she set about pouring a pain-killer potion.  
    "Quidditch," she said with a shake of her head. "I don't see why wizards have to have such a violent sport. I've had two Quidditch injuries today, and the season hasn't even started! Why can't we play a nice, simple, non-violent Muggle sport for once, hmm?"  
    "Muggle sports," scoffed Malfoy, who momentarily forgot to be in pain. "I can only imagine what my father would say if Hogwarts started offering _Muggle sports_."  
    Handing him a glass of potion, Madam Pomfrey said, "Be quiet, Mr. Malfoy, and drink this."  
    Malfoy drained the glass in one gulp and made a face. "It tastes like dirty shoes," he complained.  
    "Quit your whining," snapped Madam Pomfrey. "Go back to your common room, and try not to get injured again anytime soon."  
    As Malfoy scurried out of the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey turned her attention to Autumn.  
    "Since you're already here, Miss Potter, I think we'll do your check-up right now."  
    Autumn sat down on the white cot Malfoy had just vacated and waited as Madam Pomfrey summoned a quill and a piece of parchment attached to a clipboard with a flick of her wand.  
    Madam Pomfrey asked Autumn a load of questions, like had she been able to speak at all, and was her throat hurting, and had she had any headaches since taking the potion? Then Madam Pomfrey cast a series of complicated diagnostic spells on Autumn and wrote down her findings on her parchment. When she was finished, she went to her office and returned with another vial of the purple potion.  
    "Miss Potter, I need you to drink this again, please, and you will need to return here in one more week."  
    So Autumn drank the potion, and when she woke up after passing out, she went down to the Great Hall for dinner. She scanned the Gryffindor table for Harry, but she couldn't see him anywhere. Her nervous, panicky feeling from earlier returned, and she was too worried to eat for the rest of dinner.  
    On the way back to Ravenclaw tower, Lisa tried to take Autumn's mind off of Harry's absence by complimenting her on dislocating Malfoy's shoulder.  
    "It was a really excellent shot," added Padma Patil, one of the other Ravenclaw first years. "You should try out for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team; I heard they need new Beaters."  
    Autumn was a bit surprised at that. Granted, she had done quite well with the Bludger earlier in the day, but she'd only ever been on a broomstick once.  
     **I might try out,** she signed slowly, **but don't first years rarely make the house teams?**  
    Lisa shrugged. "I don't think they do, but it's worth a try."


	9. Year 1

    Ridiculously happy as she was to see Harry eating breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning, Autumn ran over to the Gryffindor table and hugged him 'round the neck, accidentally making him choke on his bacon.  
   **I thought you'd been expelled!** she signed when she let go of him.  
    "Well, I wasn't expelled, but I did make it onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team," said Harry proudly.  
    Autumn's eyes widened.  
    "He's the youngest House Seeker in a century," added Ron, who was sitting next to Harry.  
    "I heard some people saying you should try out for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team," Harry informed his sister. "Apparently, they're looking for Beaters. Did you really break Malfoy's arm with a Bludger?"  
    Blushing, Autumn signed, **No, I just dislocated his shoulder.**  
    Harry laughed, and Ron chortled and said, "That's bloody brilliant."  
    Harry's laughter stopped suddenly. He said, "Speaking of Malfoy..."   
    After glancing around furtively, he gestured for Autumn to lean in, and he began telling her in whispers about how, the day before, Malfoy had challenged him and Ron to a wizard's duel. Ron and Harry had accepted, and the three of them had agreed to meet at midnight in the trophy room. Unfortunately, it had turned out to be a set-up; Malfoy had tipped Filch off that Harry and Ron were going to be out after curfew. To avoid being found, Harry and Ron had been forced to hide in the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. There, they had encountered an enormous, slobbering, three-headed dog. Harry told her of his and Ron's theory that the dog was guarding the grubby little package from vault seven-hundred thirteen.  
     **That makes sense,** signed Autumn. **After all, three-headed dogs are traditionally used as guardians. The most commonly known is Cerberus.**  
    "Who?" chorused Ron and Harry blankly.  
   **In Greek mythology, Cerberus, a three-headed dog, guards the gates of Hades.**  
    At that moment, owls flooded into the Great Hall to deliver the mail as they did every morning. Everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Autumn was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of Harry, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.  
    Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky because it said:  
  
DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE.  
It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.  
 _Professor M. McGonagall_  
  
    Harry had difficult hiding his glee as he handed the note to Ron to read.  
    "A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even _touched_ one."  
     **I thought first years aren't allowed to have broomsticks,** signed Autumn, trying to keep her jealously off her face.  
    "I guess McGonagall managed to convince Professor Dumbledore to bend the rules," said Harry happily.  
    Autumn pursed her lips in disapproval and signed, **Well, congratulations, but I've just remembered that I need to speak with one of the professors about something.**  
    She spun on her heel and walked out of the Great Hall, feeling jealous of her brother and guilty at her jealousy. She should be glad for him, be congratulating him on his achievement.  
    But her guilt wasn't enough to stop her from making a visit to Madam Hooch.  
  
    Autumn fidgeted nervously and let her borrowed broomstick rest in the crook of her elbow. She signed, **This was a terrible idea. How are you not nervous?**  
    Shrugging, Lisa said, "There's a fifty-fifty chance of me getting on the team or not. And it's not like there are a lot of people to choose from."  
    They were standing on the Quidditch pitch, brooms in hand, getting ready to try out for the two open Beater spots on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Only two other people were trying out; two fourth-year boys. One was very dark, with a square jaw. The other was well-muscled and determined-looking, like, _I will make this team or die trying._ Which didn't bode well for Autumn or Lisa.  
    The Ravenclaw Quidditch team was standing a few yards away, saying something to the Hufflepuff team, who, for some reason, was also on the pitch. Autumn didn't know any of the players by name, but she recognized a few from the common room, like the Keeper (a sixth-year boy with glasses) and the Seeker (a fifth-year boy whose orange hair made him look like his head was on fire). The three Chasers, however, were unfamiliar to her. Only one of the Chasers was a boy. He was surly-looking, and had broad shoulders and a Superman-style haircut. One of the Chasers was a pretty, green-eyed Asian girl who was about half a foot taller than Autumn and whose curls flowed down her back like a midnight-black waterfall. The last Chaser was the most intriguing and was even taller than the previous one. Her hair was spiky and whiter than the clouds, and her eyes were orange. Autumn wanted to go over to her and ask how they came to be so, but the girl would probably think her rude, and besides, the chances that she understood sign language were little to none.  
    The two teams must have finished their conversation, because the Ravenclaw team was now approaching the four hopefuls.  
    "We all here?" said the Seeker, who was apparently the captain. "Right then, excellent. So it's you four who're trying out? You two girls do know that this is Beater tryouts? You two have more of a Chaser's or a Seeker's build, and we've already got them."  
    He had a rapid-fire way of speaking that made it difficult to keep up with what he was saying.  
    "We are trying out for Beater," said Lisa. "Haven't you ever heard the saying 'never judge a book by its cover?'"  
    Shrugging, the Seeker said, "Fair enough. So what are your names?"  
    "I am Jonathan Adnet," said the dark boy.  
    "Sam Corner," said the determined one, crossing his arms over his chest.  
    "Lisa Turpin," said Lisa, "and Autumn Potter."  
    Eyes widening, the captain immediately glanced at Autumn's forehead. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, which meant her scar was on full display. She shuffled her feet self-consciously and stared at the ground.  
    The captain cleared his throat and began speaking again.  
    "Okay. I'm the captain. My name is Duncan Inglebe. We're going to be scrimmaging with the Hufflepuff team, with a Slowness Charm on the Snitch so the scrimmage don't last for ages. Adnet, Corner, you will be playing in the first scrimmage. Turpin, Potter, you'll be playing in the second scrimmage. Whoever plays the best gets a spot on the team. Capiche? Clear? Got it?"  
    They all nodded. Jonathan and Sam mounted their brooms and flew up into the air to the rest of the Ravenclaw team.  
    "Turpin, throw the Quaffle up when I say," Duncan called down to Lisa.  
    Lisa picked up the Quaffle, and when Duncan said, "The match begins in three – two – one – now!" she threw it up into the air for the Chasers to fight over.  
    Since "know thy enemy" was a statement that Autumn took to heart, she focused on Jonathan's and Sam's style of playing. Sam, while more muscled than any of the other players, had absolutely no strategy. He just hit the Bludger as hard as he could. Once or twice, he narrowly missed his own teammates. Jonathan was more strategic than Sam, choosing a specific opponent to aim for. His downfall was that he only aimed for the Hufflepuff Seeker, and no one else.  
    After about ten minutes, the Hufflepuff Seeker caught the Snitch, ending the match. Duncan gestured for Lisa and I to join him in the air as Sam and Jonathan flew back to the ground. Jonathan threw the Quaffle into the air, and the second scrimmage began.  
    One of the Bludgers immediately went for the white-haired Chaser with the Quaffle, so I sped across the field and hit it toward one of the Hufflepuff Chasers. The Chaser careened out of the way to avoid the ball of metal, leaving the Ravenclaw Chaser to score a goal.  
    "Thanks, Potter!" she shouted as I passed her.  
    Things only got better from there. Together, Autumn and Lisa were almost always able to prevent the Bludgers from hitting any Ravenclaw players. When Duncan and the Hufflepuff Seeker were hurtling neck and neck toward the Snitch, Autumn managed to clip the tail of the Hufflepuff Seeker's broom, making him spin off course and allowing Duncan to catch the Snitch.  
    Afterward, Duncan thanked the Hufflepuff team for helping with tryouts, then went to confer with the other Ravenclaw team members.  
    "Who do you think he's going to pick?" Lisa wondered aloud.  
    "Not you," snorted Sam Corner.  
    "And why is that?" Lisa asked, putting her hands on her hip.  
    "You're a _first-year_ , not to mention a _girl_."  
    "Sexist git," Lisa huffed.  
    I nudged Lisa's arm and signed, **You could be in Gryffindor with that attitude.**  
    "Please," she said. "Like I'd want to be lumped in with those show-offs. Oh, sorry. I forgot that your brother's in Gryffindor."  
     **No harm done,** I signed, just as Duncan Inglebe walked over to us.  
    "So, I've talked with the team, and we've decided that the new Beaters ate going to be Turpin and Potter."  
    " _What_?" roared Sam Corner. " _Why_?"  
    "Well, for one, they actually aimed for our opponents -- all of them. They may not be the best right now, but with a bit of training, I can see them becoming excellent Beaters."  
    "The best men should get the spots, yes?" said Jonathan Adnet, patting his friend's shoulder in a comforting way.  
    "They aren't men!" Sam faced Duncan Inglebe and said, in a low and threatening voice, "Put me on the team."  
    "No," said Duncan.  
    Sam drew his wand, but before he could cast any spells, the rest of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team was surrounding him, all with their own wands pointed at him.  
    "I suggest you go away," said the white-haired Chaser, "or we will not hesitate to hex you."  
    Sam glanced around at the four wands pointing at him. Reluctantly, he muttered, "C'mon," to Jonathan, and they left the Quidditch pitch.  
    Duncan faced me. "Sorry about that. I've known Sam for a couple years, and he seems to think that he's superior to everyone. But, on a happier note: Welcome to the team, mates."  
  


Δ

  
    Perhaps it was because she was now so busy, what with Quidditch practice two to three evenings a week on top of all her homework, but Autumn could hardly believe it when she realized that she'd already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had.  
    On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Less exciting – for Autumn, at least – was the prospect of learning to make objects fly, something most students had all been dying to try since they'd seen Professor Flitwick make Neville Longbottom's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Autumn had been hoping she would be paired with Harry, but he was partnered with Seamus Finnigan. Autumn was paired with Padma Patil, Parvati Patil's twin sister.  
    "Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly I'd very important, too – never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."  
    It was very difficult. Autumn and Padma swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop.  
    They weren't the only ones having trouble; Autumn could hear Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger arguing all the way across the classroom.  
    " _Wingardium Leviosa_!" Ron shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.  
    "You're saying it wrong," Autumn heard Hermione snap. "It's Wing- _gar_ -dium Levi- _o_ -sa, make the  'gar' nice and long."  
    "You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.  
    Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, " _Wingardium Leviosa_!"  
    Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.  
    "Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"  
    Autumn harrumphed and turned angrily back to her own feather. She hated being mute. How was she supposed to do magic if she couldn't talk? It was pointless to try, and her treatments weren't working. The headmaster might as well send her back to Privet Drive.  
    Padma lay a comforting hand on Autumn's arm. "Come on, Autumn, at least try one more time."  
    Sighing, Autumn closed her eyes and concentrated. She pictured her feather floating up into the air, swished and flicked her wand, and thought, with all her might, _Wingardium Leviosa_!  
    "Autumn! You're doing it!" squealed Padma.  
    Autumn's eyes snapped open to see her feather floating gently upwards and slightly sideways, but floating nevertheless.  
    "Excellent, Miss Potter, _excellent_!" squeaked a beaming Professor Flitwick. "Ten points to Ravenclaw."  
    "He didn't give _me_ any points," Hermione whispered indignantly.  
    Autumn was in a very good mood by the end of class.  
    "Great job on the spell, Autumn," Lisa commended as they left the classroom. "What did you do differently that made it work?"  
     **I think it was just the fact that I actually envisioned it happening, signed Autumn. Usually I just sort of... expect the magic to happen.**  
    Someone knocked into Autumn as they hurried past her. It was Hermione. Autumn caught a glimpse of her face – and was startled to see that she was in tears.  
    "What's up with her?" said Lisa. "Is she really that upset about Flitwick not giving her points for getting the spell right?"  
    Autumn was about to reply, but a moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Hermione out of their minds.  
    A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.  
    Autumn was just helping herself to a bit of steak when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared a.s he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll – in the dungeons – thought you ought to know."  
    He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.  
    There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.  
    "Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"  
    Robert Hilliard and the female Ravenclaw prefect sprang into action.  
    "Ravenclaws, follow us, please! Stick together, first years! The troll poses no threat as long as you listen to our instructions!"  
    "How did a troll get in?" asked Lisa as they climbed the stairs.  
    "I dunno, trolls are supposed to be really stupid," said Terry Boot. "Maybe Peeves let it in – you know, as a Halloween   
    In her peripheral vision, Autumn saw a flash of purple. She stopped and turned to see what it was just in time to see Quirrell in his purple turban disappearing around the corner. Wait – Quirrell? What was he doing here? Hadn't he fainted in the Great Hall? And didn't that hallway lead to the out-of-bounds corridor?  
    Autumn was so caught up in her thoughts that she barely noticed when they reached Ravenclaw Tower and Penelope Clearwater answered the eagle knocker's question.  
    The tables where students did their homework or played wizards' chess were laden with food. Apparently, the Halloween feast was to be finished in the common room and dormitories.  
    Grabbing a plate each and some food, Autumn, Lisa, and Luna made their way up to the first-year girls' dormitory. Once the three were alone, Autumn wasted no time in telling her friends first of Harry's discovery of the three-headed dog and his theory concerning said dog and the package from vault seven hundred and thirteen, and then of how she had seen Quirrell near the forbidden corridor.  
    "Quirrell?" interrupted Lisa. "I thought he fainted."  
    "He did," confirmed Luna. "I saw him."  
     **Exactly,** signed Autumn. **Don't you think that's a bit suspicious?** She hesitated, then continued signing. **I think he may have let the troll in, as a diversion, so he could try to steal the package from Cerberus.**  
    Snorting, Lisa said, "Quirrell – s-stuttering, afraid–o-of–his–o-own–s-students Quirrell – the mastermind criminal behind some evil scheme to steal some mysterious object? No offense, Autumn, but that's ridiculous."


	10. Year 1

    As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.      
    The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the House Championship.  
    Hardly anyone had seen Harry play because Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret. But the news that he was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow (in the back of his mind, Harry suspected Autumn), and Harry didn't know which was worse - people telling him he'd be brilliant or people telling him they'd be running around underneath him holding a mattress.

Δ

    The morning of the match dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.  
    "You've got to eat some breakfast."  
    "I don't want anything."  
    "Just a bit of toast," argued Ron.  
    "I'm not hungry."  
    Harry felt terrible. In an hour's time he'd be walking onto the field.  
    "Harry, you need your strength," said Seamus Finnigan. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."  
    "Thanks, Seamus," said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.  
  
    By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.  
    Ron and Hermione (who Harry had befriended after saving her from the troll on Halloween) joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean Thomas up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colours.  
    Meanwhile, in the locker room, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes (Slytherin would be playing in green).  
    Wood cleared his throat for silence.  
    "Okay, men," he said.  
    "And women," said Chaser Angelina Johnson.  
    "And women," Wood agreed. "This is it."  
    "The big one," said Fred Weasley, a Beater.  
    "The one we've all been waiting for," said George, the other Beater.  
    "We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Harry, "we were on the team last year."  
    "Shut up, you two," said Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."  
    He glared at them all as if to say, "Or else."  
    "Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."  
    Harry followed Fred and George out of the locker room and, hoping his knees weren't going to give way, walked onto the field to loud cheers. Harry scanned the crowd for Autumn and found her grinning and waving a Gryffindor flag. He felt a bit braver.  
    Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in hand.  
    "Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a fifth year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt even braver.  
    "Mount your brooms, please."  
    Harry clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand.  
    Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.  
    Fifteen brooms rose up high, high into the air. They were off.  
    "And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too –"  
    "JORDAN!"  
    "Sorry, Professor."  
    The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.  
    "And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint flying like an eagle up there – he's going to sc- no, stopped by and excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle – that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger – Quaffle taken by the Slytherins – that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goalposts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes – she's really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goalposts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"  
    Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.  
    "Excuse me, pardon me – oh, sorry, I didn't see you there."  
    "Hello, Luna," greeted Lisa as Luna sat down next to her.  
    "Hello," beamed Luna. "I'm terribly sorry that I'm late, but I got caught up talking to Professor Flitwick about this lovely little charm that turns your nose hair purple."  
    Autumn and Lisa giggled.  
    "Has there been any sign of the Snitch yet?" Luna asked.  
     **Not yet,** signed Autumn. **Harry hasn't had much to do.**  
    Way up above them, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of his and Wood's game plan.  
    "Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch," Wood had said. "We don't want you attacked before you have to be."  
    When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop-the-loops to let off his feelings. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once he caught sight of a flash of gold, but it was just a reflection from one of the Weasleys' wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Harry dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.  
    "All right there, Harry?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward Marcus Flint.  
    "Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the – wait a moment – was that the Snitch?"  
    A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.  
    Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch – all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.  
    Harry was faster than Higgs – he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering – darting up ahead – he put on an extra spurt of speed –  
    WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindor supporters below – Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life.  
    "Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.  
    Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goalposts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.  
    Lee Jordan was finding it a bit difficult not to take sides.  
    "So – after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating –"  
    "Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.  
    "I mean, after that open and revolting foul –"  
    " _Jordan, I'm warning you –_ "  
    "All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."  
    It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frighteningly close lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like that.  
    It happened again. It was almost as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goalposts – he had half a mind to ask Wood to call time-out – and then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him.  
    Lee was still commentating.  
    "Slytherin in possession – Flint with the Quaffle – passes Spinnet – passes Bell – hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose – only joking, Professor – Slytherins score – oh no..."  
    The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.  
     _What on earth is he doing?_ Autumn wondered, peering up at her brother through a pair of binoculars.  
    Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.  
    "It looks like his broom is cursed," said Luna, alarm apparent in her voice.  
    At these words, Autumn brought her binoculars back up to her face, but instead of looking at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.  
    "What are you doing?" Lisa asked.  
    Autumn shoved the binoculars at Lisa and spun her so she was facing the teachers stand. Quirrell was two row from the top. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering non-stop under his breath.  
     **He's jinxing the broom,** Autumn signed, movements jerky in her panic.  
    "What should we do?"  
    Harry's broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto on of their brooms, but it was no good – every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.  
    And then, without any apparent reason, Quirrell fell headfirst into the row in front of him. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.  
    Relieved, Autumn thought, _Thank Merlin!_  
    Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick – he hit the field on all fours – coughed – and something gold fell into his hand.  
    "I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.  
    "He didn't _catch_ it, he nearly _swallowed_ it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference – Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results – Gryffindor had won by one hundred seventy points to sixty. Harry heard none of this, though. He was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Autumn, Lisa, Ron, and Hermione.  
    "It was Snape," Ron was explaining, "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."  
    "Snape?" echoed Lisa. "I think you mean Quirrell."  
    The day's events certainly seemed to have changed Lisa's opinion of Quirrell.  
    "Rubbish," said Hagrid. "Why would Snape or Quirrell do somethin' like that?"  
   **I saw Quirrell on the third floor on Halloween,** confessed Autumn. **I think he was trying to get into the out-of-bounds corridor.**  
    Harry translated for the rest of the group.  
    "Quirrell was probably trying to stop Snape," said Harry. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. Me, Ron, and Hermione think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."  
    Hagrid dropped the teapot.  
    "How do you know about Fluffy?" he said.  
    " _Fluffy_?"  
    "Yeah – he's mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –"  
    "Yes?" said Harry eagerly.  
    "Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."  
    "But Snape's trying to _steal_ it."  
     **You mean Quirrell.**  
    "Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape an' Quirrell are Hogwarts teachers, they'd do nothin' of the sort."  
    "So why did Snape just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione. "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking!"  
    "Neither was Quirrell!" shouted Lisa angrily.  
    "I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but neither Snape or Quirrell would try an' kill a student! Now listen to me, all five of yeh – yer meddlin' in things that ought not ter be meddled in. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel –"      
    "Aha!" said Harry, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"  
    Hagrid looked furious with himself.

Δ

    Autumn's own first Quidditch match, Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff, was only two weeks after Harry's. The morning of the match found Autumn poking half-heartedly at her bacon, which someone had charmed to spell GOOD LUCK!  
    "Honestly, Autumn," Lisa said impatiently. "You'll do fine, there's no need to worry."  
    Sighing, Autumn let her fork clatter loudly to her plate.  
     **I'm not worried about the match.**  
    Lisa blinked. "Then what _are_ you worried about?"  
     **I'm worried about Quirrell. What if he comes to today's match, and tries to kill me, too?**  
    Eyes widening in frightened understanding, Lisa said, "Oh. I hadn't thought of that."  
    Lost in their thoughts, the two girls sat in silence for a moment; then Lisa shook her head and said, "If he tries anything, I will personally kick him all the way past Cerberus to Hades."  
     **Trouble is, he wants to get past Cerberus.**  
  
    In the locker room, Autumn, Lisa, and the rest of the team changed into their royal blue robes (Hufflepuff would be playing in canary-yellow).  
    "Blimey, there are a lot of people out there," observed the white-haired Chaser, whose name, Autumn had learned, was Ezra Cardew. "Even the Headmaster's come to watch!"  
    Immediately, a sense of relief filled Autumn. There was no _way_ Quirrell would try something now, not with Dumbledore nearby!  
    Duncan Inglebe cleared his throat to get their attention.  
    "Right then! As long as we follow the procedures and whatnot that we practiced, we'll easily beat the Badgers. So try your best, and remember to keep your tempers under control." He looked pointedly at Ezra when he said the last bit.  
    "Okay. It's time."  
    Autumn and Lisa clutched their Beaters' bats and  followed the three Chasers, Ezra, Pandora Corazon, and Kent Larabee, out of the locker room. They were greeted by the cheers of excited students. On the other side of the field, the Hufflepuffs emerged from their locker room.  
    "Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," Madam Hooch said, once they were all gathered around her. "Of course, that won't be too difficult, with these teams.  
    "Mount your brooms, please."  
    Autumn clambered onto her school-issued Cleansweep Ten.  
    Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.  
    Fifteen brooms rose up high, high into the air. They were off.  
    "The Quaffle is taken by Hufflepuff Chaser Janet Brown – Hufflepuff's best Chaser, she is – but a Bludger sent her way by Ravenclaw Beater Lisa Turpin makes her drop the Quaffle – I'm not quite sure what Duncan Inglebe was thinking when he let first years on his team, but so far it's working – Quaffle taken by Ravenclaw Chaser Kent Larabee – he's speeding up the field – dodges a Bludger – passes to Ravenclaw Chaser Corazon – Ravenclaw scores!"  
    Cheers went up from the Ravenclaw and Slytherin stands; the two Houses had something of an alliance when it came to Quidditch.  
    The game continued.  
    "Hufflepuff in possession," Lee said. "Chaser Brown has the Quaffle once more – looks like she's trying to make up for her mistake – she's really flying, she is – passes to Chaser Isobel Reed – who dodges Chasers Cardew and Larabee – passes back to Chaser Brown – she takes a shot – Keeper Tunnelly dives – the ball glances off the tips of his fingers – score! Ten points for Hufflepuff."  
    Autumn vented her frustration by hitting a Bludger at Janet Brown the next time she got a hold of the Quaffle.  
    "The score is eighty to sixty in Ravenclaw's favour," narrated Lee some time later. "They've been playing for almost two hours, and still no sign of the Snitch. I hop it shows up soon, because I'm getting hungry!"  
    At that moment, the Hufflepuff Seeker, Cedric Diggory, went into a very steep dive. It was obvious at once that he'd spotted the Snitch. Duncan, who was on the completely other side of the field, but had a much faster broom than Diggory, flew as fast as he could, and he was quickly level with Diggory's ankles. Diggory reached out – he was about to grab the fluttering gold ball – and Autumn, panicking, hit a Bludger toward Diggory as hard as she could. It clipped the twigs on the end of Diggory's broom, narrowly missing Duncan's head and sending Diggory into a tailspin, leaving Duncan free to catch the Snitch.  
    A cheer went up in the stands, Ravenclaws and Slytherins and Harry all screaming their excitement, and as Lee Jordan shouted the results (two hundred and thirty to sixty) and the Ravenclaw team members exchanged high-fives, Autumn had never been prouder of herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The character Pandora Corazon was requested by TriceDaughterofNYX (https://www.quotev.com/TriceDaughterofNYX).


	11. Year 1

    Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.  
    No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Ravenclaw common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.  
    Autumn was not returning to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor Flitwick had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Autumn had signed up at once. This would probably be the best Christmas she'd ever had. Lisa was staying, too, because her parents and sister were going to France.  
    One morning after Charms class, Autumn, Lisa, and Luna made their way to the library, where they planned to meet Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The six students had been searching books for Nicolas Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Quirrell was trying to steal? (Of course, Harry, Ron, and Hermione still insisted that the criminal was Snape.) The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.  
    The three girls had already been researching for five minutes before Harry, Ron, and Hermione showed up.  
    "We're really sorry we're late," Hermione said breathlessly. "Malfoy held us up."  
    "Are you sure it was Malfoy?" asked Luna. "You three look like some Nargles got a hold of you."  
    Hermione stared at her like she'd just declared that she was a beaver. Ron whispered to Harry, "What's a Nargle?"  
    Autumn shook her head and went back to her book. Hermione took out a list of subjects she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he knew he'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.  
    "What are you looking for, boy?"  
    "Nothing," said Harry.  
    Madam Pince, the librarian, brandished a feather duster at him.  
    "You'd better get out, then. Go on – out!"  
    Wishing he'd been a bit quicker at thinking up some story, Harry left the library. He, Autumn, Ron, Hermione, and Autumn's friends had already agreed they'd better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they were up to.  
    Harry waited outside in the corridor to see if the other two had found anything, but he wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for two weeks, after all, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really needed was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks.  
    Five minutes later, the other five joined him, shaking their heads. They went off to lunch.  
    "You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" said Hermione. "And send me an owl if you find anything."  
    "I'll ask Daddy if he knows anything about Flamel," Luna said. "He has a very extensive knowledge of famous magical people."  
    "And you could ask you parents, too, Hermione," said Ron. "It'd be safe to ask them."  
    "Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione.  
  
    Once the holidays had started, Autumn and Lisa were having too good a time to think much about Flamel. They had the dormitory to themselves and the common room was far emptier than usual; only Ezra and Pandora had remained at Hogwarts for the holidays. The four of them sat around the fire all day long, eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork – marshmallows, English muffins, bread – and talking.  
    They also started a chess club. Ezra, the only one who knew how to play wizard chess, was teaching the others. It was a lot like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle.   
    Ezra played with a custom-made set of chessmen that she had owned since she was seven. When Autumn, Lisa, or Pandora played (Autumn and Lisa usually played as a team against Pandora and Ezra), Ezra simply conjured a set out thin air. These chessmen were rather annoying, as they didn't trust anyone who played with them. They kept shouting different bits of advice, which was very confusing. "Don't send me there, can't you see her rook? Send _him_ , we can afford to lose _him_."  
    Autumn also managed to work up the courage to finally ask Ezra how her hair and eyes came to be so unnatural-looking.  
    "Oh, it was just an accident in Magical Theory," she replied. "Great class, by the way; when it comes time to pick your electives, you should definitely pick that one."  
    On Christmas Eve, Autumn went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When she woke with a pillow in her face (courtesy of Lisa), the second thing she saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of her bed.  
    "Merry Christmas!" Lisa sing-songed as Autumn scrambled out of bed and pulled on her bathrobe.  
     **You, too,** Autumn signed. **Will you look at this? I've got some presents!**  
    "Well, of _course_ you do," said Lisa, examining her own, larger pile.  
    Autumn picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was _To Autumn, from Hagrid_. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Autumn blew it – it sounded a bit like Hecate.  
    A second, very small parcel contained a note:  
   _We request that you ask if you can stay for the summer holidays as well. We have enclosed your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia._ Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.  
   **Maybe they think they can bribe me into staying forever of they pay me,** Autumn mused. **Hagrid and my aunt and uncle – so who sent these?**  
    The next parcel was very lumpy. Autumn tore it open to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of fudge. On top of the fudge was another note:  
     _Merry Christmas, dear. I hope you and Harry are having a lovely time at Hogwarts. With love, Mrs. Weasley._  
    Autumn wasn't quite sure why Ron's mother was sending her Christmas presents, but she wasn't going to complain; it was a very nice sweater, and the fudge tasted absolutely divine.  
    Harry had also sent Autumn a card made of green and red paper with a Chocolate Frog taped inside. It was the most expensive present he had been able to afford, but the twins both knew that the money didn't really matter, and that it was the fact that they had each other that counted.   
    The next two presents were from Lisa and Luna. Lisa's present was a gift certificate to a Muggle place where she could get her ears pierced, and Luna had given her a necklace made of corks with a note that said: _It'll keep away the Nargles._  
    This left only one parcel. It was so small that Autumn almost missed it. She picked it up and felt it. It was very light. She unwrapped it.  
    A note fluttered out. Autumn picked it up. Written in narrow, loopy writing she had never seen before were the following words:  
  
     _This was your mother's. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.  
    A Very Merry Christmas to you._  
  
    There was no signature.  
    Inside the box was a beautiful silver necklace with a lily-shaped charm on it. Autumn lifted the necklace into the air, trying to imagine it on her mother (even though she had no idea what she looked like).  
    "What's that?" Lisa asked curiously.  
    Autumn handed her the note, and she gasped. "This was your _mum's_?"  
    Autumn nodded.  
    "Turn around," said Lisa. "I'll put it on for you."  
    Sweeping her hair out of the way, Autumn turned around. Lisa put the necklace around her neck and clasped it, then yelped and jumped back.  
    "Where did you go?"  
     **What do you mean, where did I go?** Autumn signed. **I'm right here!**  
    "Autumn?" Lisa called. She stepped forward, arms outstretched like a zombie, groping at the air.  
    Starting to get annoyed, Autumn signed, **I told you! I'm right here!** At the same time, Lisa's had brushed Autumn's hair. She shrieked and jumped back again.  
    Pandora poked her head in. "What's going on?" she asked.  
    "Autumn disappeared!" Lisa wailed.  
    Pandora blinked. "What?"  
    "Autumn got a necklace for Christmas," said Lisa, "and when she put it on, she disappeared!"  
    The necklace! Did that have anything to do with her disappearing act? Deciding that it was worth a shot, Autumn fumbled with the clasp and took off the necklace.  
    "Really?" said Pandora. "It doesn't look like she disappeared." When Lisa demanded to know what she meant, Pandora gestured toward the now-visible Autumn.  
    "Where did you spring from?" Lisa demanded.  
     **I never left,** signed Autumn. **I think the necklace made me invisible.**  
    "What did she say?" asked Pandora, who did not know sign language.  
    "She thinks the necklace made her invisible."  
  
    That night at Christmas dinner, the Ravenclaw table was deserted. Pandora was sitting with her Hufflepuff friends, Ezra was sitting with her Slytherin friends (though how or why she had friends in Slytherin was a mystery) and Autumn and Lisa sat with Harry and the Weasleys. Harry was wearing an emerald green sweater just like Autumn's, and the Weasleys were all wearing similar sweaters.  
    "We even convinced Percy to wear his!" boasted George, who was wearing a blue sweater with a large yellow G on it.  
    "Of course, he didn't really want to," said Fred, whose sweater had an F instead of a G. "He said it interfered with his "Prefect image," whatever that means."  
    The Great Hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.  
    Never in all her eleven years of life had Autumn had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of rich gravy and cranberry sauce – and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favours were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. Autumn pulled a wizard cracker with Harry and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.  
    Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver Sickle embedded in his slice. Autumn and Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to both Autumn's and Harry's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.  
    When Autumn finally left the table, she was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a stack of Chocolate Frogs, her own wizard chess set, exploding bouncy balls, and a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit. The white mice had disappeared, and Autumn had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norris's Christmas dinner.  
    Autumn, Harry, Lisa, and the Weasleys (sans Percy the Prefect) spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping, they returned to their dormitories to change into some warm pyjamas.  
    After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much else before bed except sit and watch the flickering flames that made shadows dance on the walls.  
    It had been Autumn's best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of her mind all day. Not until she climbed into bed was she free to think about it: her mother's necklaces and whoever had sent it.  
    Lisa, full of turkey and cake with nothing mysterious to bother her, cell asleep almost as soon as she'd drawn the curtains of her four-poster. Autumn leaned over and took the box with the necklace in it off her nightstand.  
    Her mother's... this had been her _mother's_. She let the silver chain pool in her palm, which felt oddly comforting. Use it well, the note had said.  
    She had to try it, now. She slipped out of bed and clasped the necklace around her neck. Looking down at her legs, she saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.  
     _Use it well._  
    Suddenly, Autumn felt wide awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to her in this necklace. Excitement flooded through her as she stood there in the dark and silence. She could go anywhere in this, and no one need ever know.  
    Autumn stood there, shrouded in darkness, wondering where to go. And then it came to her: the Restricted Section in the library. She'd be able to read as long as she liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was.  
    She exited her dormitory and left the common room. It wasn't until the door swung shut behind her that Autumn realized that she wouldn't be able to re-enter Ravenclaw Tower unless someone answered the knocker's question for her.  
     _Oh, well,_ she thought, _I'll cross that bridge when I get there._  
    The library was pitch black and very eerie. Autumn lit a lamp so she could see. To her surprise, both the lamp and the match she used to light it turned invisible the second she touched them; yet, the light from the candle still glowed. It looked quite odd, like a small, glowing ghost floating amongst the aisles of books.  
    The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library, she held up her lamp to read the titles.  
    They didn't tell her much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Autumn couldn't understand. Some had no title at all. One book was bound in what looked suspiciously like human skin. The hairs on the back of Autumn's neck prickled. Maybe she was imagining it, maybe not, but she thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was here who shouldn't be.  
    She had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, she glanced along a shelf for an interesting-looking book. A large green volume caught her eye. She reached for it –  
    All of a sudden, the silence was split by a piercing, bloodcurdling scream! The shriek went on, one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. Autumn stumbled backward and knocked over her lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, she heard footsteps coming from the corridor outside – she ran for it. She passed Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through her, and Autumn slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the shrieks still ringing in her ears.  
    She came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armour. She had been so busy getting away from the library, she hadn't paid any attention to where she was going. Perhaps because it was dark, she didn't recognise where she was at all. There was a suit of armour near the Great Hall, she knew, but she must be floors above there.  
    Then she heard something that made her freeze. The sound of ragged breathing was coming from somewhere to her right. Fearful that her invisible companion would hear Autumn's own breathing, she held her breath. Creeping forward with raised arms, she felt the air in front of her. Her fingers closed around smooth fabric, and she yanked it. A silvery cloak fell to the ground, revealing –  
     _Harry?_  
    He looked around in a panic, searching for the person who'd discovered him.  "Who's there?" he whispered cautiously.  
    Autumn quickly unclasped the lily necklace and waved at her brother.  
    " _Autumn_? What are you –"  
    "You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library – Restricted Section."  
    Autumn felt the blood drain out of her face. Wherever they were, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to Harry's horror, it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."  
    Autumn put her necklace back on, and Harry threw the cloak over their heads just as Snape and Filch came around the corner. They couldn't see the siblings, of course, but it was a narrow corridor, and if they came much nearer they'd collide – invisibility didn't stop them from being tangible.  
    Autumn and Harry backed away as quietly as they could. A door stood ajar to their left. It was their only hope. They squeezed through it, moving in sync, holding their breath, trying not to move it, and to their relief they managed to get inside the room without Snape or Filch noticing anything. They walked straight past, and Autumn and Harry leaned against each other, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. It was a few minutes before Autumn took off the cloak and her necklace.  
    She pointed at the cloak and signed, **What is this?**  
    "It's an Invisibility Cloak," he said. "It, well, it makes you invisible."  
     **Really? An Invisibility Cloak makes you invisible? I never would have guessed,** signed Autumn. **Where did you get it?**  
    Harry fidgeted with his glasses. "I got it for Christmas, actually." He hesitated. "It – it was Dad's."  
    Autumn's eyes widened, and her hand unconsciously tightened on her lily necklace.  
    "What about that necklace?" Harry asked. "Where did you get _it_?"  
    Autumn stuffed it in the pocket of her bathrobe before replying. **It was a Christmas present. It belonged to our mum, coincidentally. What were you doing out of bed?**  
    "I was looking in the Restricted Section for Nicolas Flamel," he admitted. "But the first time I opened a book, it screamed at me.  
     **So that was the scream I heard!**  
    Only once they had finished recounting their nighttime expeditions did Harry and Autumn look around the room they were hidden in. It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket – but propped against the wall facing the twins was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.  
    It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. Autumn's lips moved soundlessly as she read the inscription carved around the top: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on woshi._  
    Curious, Autumn moved closer to the mirror. She stepped in front of it.  
    She had to clap her hands to her mouth to muffle her gasp. She whirled around. Her heart was pounding far more furiously than when she had been running from Filch – for she had seen not only herself in the mirror, but two other people.  
    But the room was empty, except for Harry.  
    "Autumn?" said Harry. "What's wrong?"  
    She pointed at the mirror. Harry peered into it, and his hands, too, flew to his mouth in shock.  
    There they were, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind them, were a man and a woman. Autumn looked over her shoulder – but still, no one was there. Or were they invisible, too? Was the mirror's trick that it reflected everyone, invisible or not?  
    Autumn reached out a hand and felt the air behind her. If the strangers were really there, she'd touch them, their reflections were so close together, but she felt only air – the strangers existed only in the mirror.  
    The man was tall, thin, and black-haired. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Harry's did. The man put his arm around the woman, who was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. She had dark red hair and her eyes were bright green – perhaps not quite as bright green as Autumn's, but bright green nonetheless. Red hair aside, she looked like an older version of Autumn.  
    The twins were so close to the mirror now that their noses were nearly touching that of their reflections.  
    "Mum?" Harry whispered, just as Autumn was coming to the same conclusion. "Dad?"  
    Their parents just smiled and waved at Harry and Autumn as they stared hungrily back at them, their hands pressed flat against the glass as though they were hoping to fall right through it and reach them. The twins both had a powerful kind of ache inside them, half joy, half terrible sadness.  
    How long they stood there, they didn't know. The reflections did not fade and they looked and looked until a distant noise brought them to their senses. They couldn't stay here, they had to find their way back to bed.  
    "We'll come back," whispered Harry, and they hurried from the room.  
  
    "You should have woken me up," exclaimed Lisa crossly.  
     **You can come with me tonight, I'm going again,** signed Autumn.  
    "Excellent," said Lisa. "I'd love to see your parents. Hey, how did you get back into the Tower?"  
     **I dragged Harry to the Tower with me, told him the answer to the riddle, and made him answer the knocker.**  
    Lisa snorted. "Clever. Why aren't you eating? You've pgot to build up some energy for running around the castle at night."  
    Autumn couldn't eat. She had seen her parents and would be seeing them again tonight. She had almost forgotten about Flamel. It didn't seem important anymore. Who cared what the three-headed dog was guarding? What did it matter if Quirrell stole it, really?  
    "Are you all right?" asked Lisa. "You look funny."  
  
    Autumn had started at the library and tried retracing her steps, but she could not find the mirror room again. Autumn and Lisa wandered around the dark passages for nearly an hour.  
    "Autumn, I'm _freezing_ ," complained Lisa. "Let's forget it and try again tomorrow."  
    Autumn shook her head, forgetting that she was invisible, and kept walking, dragging Lisa along with her.  
    Just as Lisa started complaining that her feet were dead cold, Autumn started the suit of armour. She gasped excitedly and ran to the door. They pushed it open. Autumn let go of Lisa's hand and unclasped the necklace. She ran to the mirror.  
    There they were. Her mother and father beamed at the sight of her.  
    "I can't see anything," whispered Lisa.  
    Autumn turned her head to look at her, mouth open in disbelief. **What do you mean, you can't see them? Come on, stand where I am and look in it properly.**  
    Autumn stepped aside, but with Lisa in front of the mirror, she couldn't see her parents anymore, just Lisa in her faded blue pyjamas.  
    Lisa stared at the image in the mirror, mouth agape. She stepped closer to the mirror and laid a hand on the glass, staring at the mirror as hungrily as Autumn had the previous night. Then she tore her eyes away and looked at Autumn.  
    "I want to leave."  
     **What do you mean, you want to leave? What's wrong?**  
    "Nothing. I just want to leave."  
     **Well, if nothing's wrong, then I'm going to stay here with my parents.**  
    "Fine!" shouted Lisa. "You do that. I'm going back to the Tower."  
    Recoiling, Autumn stared at Lisa as she stomped away. What did she mean, she was leaving? She couldn't leave without the protection of invisibility! What if Filch was around?  
    Autumn took one more look at her parents before running after Lisa. She caught up with the other girl and grabbed her hand. Lisa started, but relaxed when she realized who it was. They walked in silence for five minutes or so, then Lisa said, "I'm sorry I yelled at you."  
    Autumn squeezed her hand, hoping that Lisa would understand that it meant that Autumn forgave her.  
  
    The snow still hadn't melted the next morning.  
    "Want to play chess, Autumn?"  
     **No.**  
    "Want to go down to the Great Hall?"  
     **No. You go.**  
    "I know you're thinking about that mirror, Autumn. You shouldn't go back tonight."  
     **Why not?**  
    "I've got a bad feeling about it, all right? Just don't go."  
    But Autumn had only one thought in her head, which was to get back in front of that mirror, and Lisa wasn't going to stop her.  
  
    The third night, she found her way more quickly than before. She was walking so fast she knew she was making more noise than was wise, but she didn't meet anyone. There was nothing to stop her from staying here all night with her family. Nothing at all.  
    Except –  
    "Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you."  
    There was a person in the mirror room.  
    Peering around the door, Autumn saw that there were actually two people. The first, who had spoken, was none other than Albus Dumbledore. The second was her brother. Dumbledore was smiling.  
    "So," said Dumbledore, joining Harry on the floor, where he sat cross-legged, "you and your sister, like hundreds before you both, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."  
    "I didn't know it was called that, sir."  
    "Does your sister?" Dumbledore turned around to look at the doorway where Autumn was hiding. "You may take off your necklace, Autumn."  
    Hesitantly unclasping her lily necklace, Autumn stood there looking slightly sheepish. Dumbledore waved her over, so she crossed the room and sat down next to her brother.  
    "I expect you've realised by now what it does?" Dumbledore asked, as though Autumn had not seemingly appeared out of thin air.  
   **It shows our family.**  
    "I speak over fifty languages, but somehow, I have never needed to learn sign language. Harry, would you tell me what your sister said?"  
    "It – well – it shows our family."  
    "And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy, and your friend Lisa saw something that she did not wish to disclose just yet."  
    "How did you know –?"  
    "I don't need a cloak or a necklace to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"  
    The twins shook their heads.  
    "Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror; that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"  
    Autumn thought. Then she signed slowly, **It shows us what we want. Whatever we want.**  
    Harry told Dumbledore what she'd said.  
    "Yes and no," said Dumbledore quietly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You two, who have never known your family, see them standing with you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of them all. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.  
    "The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If either of you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you don your Cloaks and necklaces and get off to bed?"  
    Harry and Autumn stood up.  
    "Sir – Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"  
    "Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing, however."  
    "What do you see when you look in the mirror?"  
    "I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woollen socks."  
    Harry and Autumn stared.  
    "One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."  
    Dumbledore swept off to wherever it was that the Headmaster spent his leisure time, Harry escorted Autumn back to Ravenclaw Tower and answered the question for her, and Autumn climbed into bed and stayed awake all night, staring at the ceiling and thinking.


	12. Year 1

    Dumbledore had convinced Autumn not to go looking for the Mirror of Erised again, and for the rest of the Christmas holidays, the lily necklace stayed tucked away in the bottom of her trunk. Autumn wished she could forget what she'd seen in the mirror as easily, but she couldn't. She started having nightmares. Over and over again she dreamed about her parents disappearing in a flash of green night, while a high voice cackled with laughter. Her only consolation was that Harry was having these nightmares, too.  
    Lisa still refused to say what she had seen in the mirror. Every time the subject was brought up, she would go temporarily deaf, or just leave the room.  
    Luna and Hermione, who came back the day before term started, took different views on things. Luna thought the mirror sounded very interesting, and wished she could have got a look in it. Hermione was torn between horror at the idea of the Potter twins being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row ("If Filch had caught you!"), and disappointment that they hadn't at least found out Nicolas Flamel was.  
    They had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even though Harry was sure he'd read the name somewhere. Once term started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. Autumn, Lisa, and Harry had even less time than the others, because Quidditch practice had started again.  
    Duncan Inglebe had gotten into more than one verbal sparring match with the Gryffindor captain, who was booking the field for practice almost every day.  
    "The rest of us have to practice, too, Wood!" Duncan would shout.  
    Harry told Autumn that Wood was working them harder than ever. Even the endless rain that replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys complained that Wood was becoming a fanatic, but Harry was on Wood's side. If they won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the House Championship for the first time in seven years.  
    One evening, after one such practice, Harry entered the Great Hall looking worried. Ron and Hermione were playing chess, and Autumn, Lisa, and Luna were watching. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Harry and Ron thought was very good for her.  
    "Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron when Harry sat down next to him. "I need to concen–" He caught sight of Harry's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."  
    Speaking quietly so that only the six of them could hear, Harry said, "Snape's refereeing the next Quidditch match."  
    "Don't play," said Hermione at once.  
    "Say you're ill," said Ron.  
    "Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.  
    "Really break your leg," said Ron.  
    "I can't," said Harry. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."  
   **It doesn't matter,** signed Autumn. **Snape isn't the one who tried to kill you. Quirrell is.**  
    At that moment, Neville Longbottom hopped into the Great Hall, his legs stuck together with what they recognised as the Leg-Locker Curse. He hopped again, lost his balance, and fell face-first onto the floor.  
    Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione, who leapt up and performed the countercurse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.  
    "What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with them.  
    "Malfoy," said Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."  
    "Go to Professor McGonagall!" Lisa urged Neville. "Report him!"  
    Neville shook his head.  
    "I don't want more trouble," he mumbled.  
    "You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."  
    "There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out.  
    Harry felt in the pocket of his robes and pulled out a Chocolate Frog, the very last from a box Hermione had given him for Christmas. He gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry.  
    "You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."  
    Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog.  
    "Thanks, Harry... I think I'll go to bed.... D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?"  
    As Neville walked away again, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card.  
    "Dumbledore again," he said. "He was the first one I ever –"  
    He gasped. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at his five companions.  
    "I've found him!" he whispered. "I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here – listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, _and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel_ '!"  
    Hermione gasped. She hadn't looked so excited since they'd gotten back the marks for their very first piece of homework. She grabbed her school bag and rifled through it, extracting an enormous old book.  
    "I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library ages ago for a bit of light reading."  
    "Light?" said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself.  
    At last she found what she was looking for.  
    "I knew it! I knew it!"  
    "Are we allowed to speak yet?" said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him.  
    "Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the _only known maker_ of the Philosopher's Stone!"  
    This had mixed results. Autumn and Lisa gasped. Harry and Ron chorused, "What's that?" Luna said, "Daddy says that's just a myth."  
    Hermione shot Luna a dirty look, then said to Harry and Ron, "Oh, honestly, don't you two read? Listen –" She began to read from the book:  
  
     _The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The Stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.  
    There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight)._  
  
    "See?" said Hermione, when she had finished. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone out of Gringotts!"  
    "A stone that makes golf and stops you from ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it."  
     **Quirrell,** corrected Autumn.  
    "And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," said Lisa. "He's not exactly recent of he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"  
  
    Harry decided that he would play in the match against Hufflepuff, but as it drew nearer, he became more and more nervous, whatever he told Ron and Hermione. The rest of the team wasn't calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the House Championship was wonderful, no one had done it for seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee?  
    Harry didn't know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to catch him on his own. Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Harry. Could Snape possibly know they'd found out about the Philosopher's Stone? Harry didn't see how he could – yet sometimes he had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds.  
  
    Autumn knew, when they wished Harry good luck outside the locker room in the afternoon before the match, that Ron and Hermione were wondering whether they'd ever see him alive again. She rolled her eyes behind their backs – didn't they understand that Snape wasn't the threat? – but said nothing.  
    The five-people group of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors found a place in the stands near Neville, who couldn't understand why Ron and Hermione looked so grim, or why they had both brought their wands to the match. Little did Harry know that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. They'd gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.  
    "Now, don't forget, it's _Locomotor Mortis_ ," Hermione muttered as Ron slipped his wand up his sleeve.  
    "I know," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."  
    To put it bluntly, Autumn thought their plan was stupid. Even if Snape _was_ a threat, the Leg-Locker Curse wouldn't impede his ability to cast spells.  
    Speaking of Snape, he was looking particularly angry as the team's marched onto the field, something that Ron noticed, too.  
    "I've never seen Snape look so mean," he said. "Look – they're off. Ouch!"  
    Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.  
    "Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."  
    Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle.  
    "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? How about you, Shrimp?"  
    Autumn didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Harry was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.  
    "You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money – you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."  
    Neville went bright red but turned around in his seat to face Malfoy.  
    "I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered.  
    Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Autumn, who was smarting about the comment about her parents, nodded approvingly, and Lisa said, "You tell him, Neville."  
    "Longbottom, if brains were gold, you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."  
    Ron's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry.  
    "I'm warning you, Malfoy – one more word –"  
    "Look at Harry!" said Luna suddenly.  
    "What? Where?"  
    Harry had gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione and Autumn stood up in unison, watching intently as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet.  
    "You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.  
    Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Rob was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help.  
    "Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape – she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or Lisa cheering Ron on, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle.  
    Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches – the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.  
    The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.  
    "Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, hugging Autumn, who was also ecstatic. Quite apart from being glad for Harry, Ravenclaw was now in second place, and as long as Hufflepuff beat Slytherin in the next match, and Ravenclaw beat Gryffindor in the match after that, Ravenclaw would be in first place, and they would win the Quidditch cup!  
    Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground. He couldn't believe it. He'd done it – the game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes. As Gryffindors came spilling onto the field, he saw Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped – then Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into Dumbledore's smiling face.  
    "Well done," said Dumbledore quietly, so that only Harry could hear. "Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror... been keeping busy... excellent..."  
    Snape spat bitterly on the ground.


	13. Year 1

    Autumn was angry. In the weeks that followed the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff Quidditch match, she had noticed Harry and Ron being exceptionally nice to Quirrell. Whenever Harry passed Quirrell these days he gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron had started telling people off for laughing at Quirrell's stutter. Honestly, were they trying to help him steal the Stone? When Autumn confronted them about it, Harry told her about a conversation he'd overheard between Snape and Quirrell. According for Harry, Snape had been threatening Quirrell, trying to force Quirrell to help him steal the Philosopher's Stone.  
   **Hogwash,** signed Autumn.  
    In addition to keeping tabs on Quirrell and trying to keep Harry and his friends under control, exams were steadily approaching. The teachers piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax when you were practicing wand movements or trying to remember the twelve uses of dragon's blood. Yawning and complaining, Autumn, Lisa, and Luna spent most of their free time in the library, trying to get through all their extra work.  
    "I give up," Lisa burst out one afternoon, throwing down her quill. "Why should I have to know how to transfigure a soup can into a clothes hanger?"  
    Autumn also put down her quill, looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they'd had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, and their was a feeling in the air of summer coming.  
    "Hagrid!" said a familiar voice. "What are you doing in the library?"  
    Autumn, Lisa, and Luna peered around a bookshelf and saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione looking at Hagrid, who was hiding something behind his back. He seemed very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.  
    "Jus' looking'," he said, in a shifty voice that piqued their interest at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He looked suddenly suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"  
    "Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," said Lisa impressively, drawing Hagrid's attention.  
    "Yeah," said Ron. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Philosopher's St–"  
    " _Shhhh_!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"  
    "There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," said Harry, "about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy –"  
    "SHHHH!" said Hagrid again. "Listen – come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I told yeh –"  
    "See you later, then," said Harry.  
    Hagrid shuffled off.  
    "What was he hiding behind his back?" said Hermione thoughtfully.  
     **Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?**  
    "I'm going to see what section he was in," said Ron, who'd had enough of working. He came back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on a table.  
    "Dragons!" he whispered. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: _Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland_ ; _From Egg to Inferno, a Dragon Keeper's Guide_."  
    Autumn, Lisa, and Luna went over for a closer look.  
    "Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me and Autumn the first time we met him," said Harry.  
    "But it's against our laws," said Ron. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden – anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns my brother Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."  
    "Everyone just says that because they're to frightened to get near them to actually test it for themselves," said Luna. "Dragons are actually very sweet creatures."  
    Everyone stared at her. Harry said, "But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?"  
    "Of course there are," said Ron. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job bushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles to make them forget."  
    "So what on earth is Hagrid up to?" said Lisa.  
  
    When Autumn and Lisa knocked on the door of the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. Hagrid called "Who is it?" before he let them in, and then shut the door quickly behind them.  
    It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid offered them tea and stoat sandwiches, which they refused. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were already there.  
    "Where's that other girl?" Harry asked Autumn as she sat down next to him.  
    **Luna didn't want to come. She said something about Hagrid's hut being too unsanitary.**  
    Hagrid sat down at the table.  
    "So – yeh wanted ter ask me somethin'?"  
    "Yes," said Harry. There was no point beating around the Bush. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Philosopher's Stone apart from Fluffy."  
    Hagrid frowned at him.  
    "O' course I can't," he said. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts – I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."  
     **Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here,** signed Autumn on a sudden burst of inspiration. **We only wondered who had done that guarding, really, she continued. We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you.**  
    Lisa grinned at Autumn and translated her words to Hagrid in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid's chest swelled at her last words.  
    "Well, I don' s'ppose it could hurt ter tell yeh that... let's see... he borrowed Fluffy from me... then some o' the teachers did enchantments... Professor Sprout – Professor Flitwick – Professor McGonagall –" he ticked them off on his fingers, "Professor Quirrell –" (Autumn and Lisa exchanged a look) "an' Professor Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."  
    " _Snape_?" echoed Harry, Ron, and Hermione, all looking horror-struck.  
    "Yeah – yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."  
    Autumn knew Harry was thinking the same as she was. If the thief, whether it be Quirrell or Snape, had been in on protecting the Stone, they probably had a decent idea on how their fellow teachers had helped guard it.  
    "You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" said Harry anxiously. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"  
    "Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly.  
    "Well, that's something," Lisa muttered. "Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."  
    "Can't, Lisa, sorry," said Hagrid. He glanced at the fire, and everyone else looked at it, too.  
    "Hagrid – what's that?"  
    But Autumn already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.  
    "Ah," said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard, "That's – er..."  
    "Where did you get it, Hagrid?" said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. "It must've cost you a fortune."  
    "Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."  
    "But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" said Hermione.  
    "Well, I've been doin' some readin'," said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library – _Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit_ – it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all on here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here – how ter recognize diff'rent eggs – what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."  
    He looked very pleased with himself, but no one else did.  
    "Hagrid, you live in a _wooden house_ ," said Hermione.  
    But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire.  
  
    So now they had something else to worry about: what might happen to Hagrid if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut.  
    "So much for having a peaceful Easter holiday," Lisa sighed, as evening after evening they slogged through all the extra homework they were getting.  
    Then, one breakfast time, Hecate brought Autumn another note from Hagrid. He had written only two words: _It's hatching._  
    Lisa wanted to skip Charms and go straight down to Hagrid's hut, but Autumn stopped her.  
   **If we miss class, the teachers will want to know where we were,** reasoned Autumn. **And we can't very well tell them we were watching an illegal dragon hatching.**  
    So they agreed they would go down to Hagrid's during their morning break. Well the bell sounded at the end of the lesson, Autumn, Lisa, and Luna quickly put away the cushions they had been charming and hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest. Hagrid greeted them, looking flushed and excited.  
    A moment later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione knocked on the door. Hagrid ushered them inside, saying, "It's nearly out."  
    The egg was lying on the table. There were deep cracks in it. Something was moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from it.  
    They all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath.  
    All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table. It wasn't exactly pretty; it looked rather like a crumpled black umbrella. Its spiny wings were huge in comparison to its skinny jet body, it had a long snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes.  
    It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout.  
    "Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs.  
    "Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!" said Hagrid.  
    "He's so cute," cooed Luna.  
    "Hagrid," said Hermione, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"  
    Hagrid was about to answer when the colour suddenly drained from his face – he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.  
    "What's the matter?"  
    "Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains – it's a kid – he's runnin' back up ter the school."  
    Harry and Autumn bolted to the door together and looked out. Even at a distance there was no mistaking that blonde hair.  
    Malfoy had seen the dragon.  
  
    Something about the smile lurking on Malfoy's face the next week made Autumn, Lisa, and even Luna very nervous. The three of them, along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, made regular trips to Hagrid's hut, trying to reason with him.  
    "Just let him go," Harry urged. "Set him free."  
    "I can't," said Hagrid. "He's too little. He'd die."  
    They looked at the dragon. It had grown three times in length in just a week. Smoke kept curling out of its nostrils. Hagrid hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor.  
    "I've decided to call him Norbert," said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mummy?"  
    "He's gone completely bonkers," Lisa muttered in Autumn's ear.  
    "Hagrid," said Harry loudly, "give it two weeks and Norbert's going to be as long as your House. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."  
    Hagrid bit his lip.  
    "I – I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him, I can't."  
    Harry suddenly turned to Ron.  
    "Charlie," he said.  
    "You're losing it, too," said Ron. "I'm Ron, remember?"  
    "No – Charlie – your brother, Charlie. In Romania. Studying dragons. We could send Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then put him back in the wild!"  
    "Brilliant!" said Ron and Lisa in unison.  
    "How about it, Hagrid?" said Ron.  
    And in the end, Hagrid agreed that they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him.  
  
    The following week dragged by. Wednesday found Autumn watching Lisa and Luna play wizard chess by the fire. Everyone else had long since gone to bed, but Lisa was determined to win at least one game. It was past midnight when Harry's snowy white owl tapped on the window with her beak.  
    "Isn't that your brother's owl, Autumn?" asked Luna, momentarily distracted.  
    Wondering why on earth Harry was sending her letters, especially at this time of night, Autumn sleepily dragged herself out of her comfortable seat by the fire and opened the window. Hedwig swooped in and dropped the letter on top of the chess game. Several chessmen got knocked over and gave cries of protest.  
    Lisa picked the letter up.  
    "Charlie answered. Send it back when you finish reading it," she read aloud.  
    The three of them put their heads together to read Charlie's reply:  
  
 _Dear Ron,  
    How are you? Thanks for your letter – I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him over here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon.  
    Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's dark.  
    Send me an answer as soon as possible.  
        Love,  
        Charlie_  
  
    They looked at one another.  
    "Well, looks like something's going our way for once," said Lisa.  
    When Autumn saw Harry the next day, however, he didn't look happy at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.  
    "Norbert bit Ron," he told her in a hushed voice. "It looks really terrible, but we don't know if Madam Pomfrey will recognize a dragon bite, so he doesn't want to risk going to the hospital wing."  
    By the afternoons, however, he had no choice. Ron's bitten hand had swollen up to twice its usual size and turned a sickly shade of green. It looked as though Norbert's fangs were venomous.  
    At the end of the day, Harry, Hermione, Autumn, Lisa, and Luna all went up to the hospital wing to find Ron in a terrible state in bed.  
    "Its not just my hand," he whispered, "although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He keeps threatening to tell her what really bit me – I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me – I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."  
    They all tried to calm Ron down.  
    "It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," said Luna, but this didn't soothe Ron at all. On the contrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat.  
    "Midnight on Saturday!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Oh no – oh no – I've just remembered – Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert."  
    They didn't get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep.  
  
    Autumn spent the whole of Saturday pacing in the common room and worrying about Malfoy and Norbert and Harry and Hermione, who were going to be the ones to bring Norbert to Charlie's friends.  
    "Just relax, Autumn," said an exasperated Lisa. "Worrying isn't going to change anything. Either they get in trouble, or they don't."  
    Gnawing on her lower lip, Autumn signed, **I know, but knowing that just makes it worse.**  
    She was still awake when all the other Ravenclaws had disappeared to their dorms. As the clock struck eleven, Autumn was struck by a bolt of inspiration. Rushing up to the first-year girls' dorms, she jostled Lisa and Luna awake. They sleepily followed Autumn into the common room so they could speak without waking up their dormmates (Su Li, Morag MacDougal, Padma Patil, and Mandy Brocklehurst).  
    After she turned on a lamp, Autumn immediately turned to face her friends and started signing.  
   **I was thinking,** she signed, **and I'm fairly certain that I've figured out why Malfoy hasn't tattled about Norbert yet. He must want to catch Harry carrying an illegal dragon, himself.**  
    Lisa looked like she was chewing it over in her head.  
    "It makes sense," she said slowly. "He does hate Harry an awful lot. And there's a good chance that he thinks you're going to help Harry bring Norbert to Charlie. He'd love to get the both of you in trouble, especially after what you did to him in our first flying lesson."  
   **I've got an idea to keep him from finding Norbert, Harry, and Hermione tonight.**  
    "What is it?" asked Luna. "Does it involve Nargles?"  
     **No,** signed Autumn. **I'm going to put on my mother's necklace and follow Malfoy around, making weird noises and stuff. Hopefully, it'll scare him back to his common room**.  
    Neither Lisa nor Luna looked as if they approved of this plan.  
    "You could get caught."  
     **But whoever catches me will only know who they caught if I take off my necklace.**  
    Letting out an exasperated sigh, Lisa said, "Fine. But I'm coming with you."  
    Autumn wanted to protest, but she knew that of Lisa wanted to come, nothing could stop her. She was just too stubborn.  
     **Okay. Luna, can you stay here and make sure no one is in the common room when we get back?**  
    Luna nodded. Autumn went to get her necklace, put it on, and slipped her hand into Lisa's, who instantly turned invisible.  
    "Wish us luck," Lisa whispered.  
    "Good luck," said Luna. "Watch out for Nargles."  
    It was a very dark night. The moon was covered by clouds, so no moonlight shone through the windows. Autumn wished she had thought to bring a lamp, but then, they would have been caught immediately if someone had happened upon a random, floating, glowy thing.  
    Speaking of glowing...  
    "I think I see someone holding a lamp," Lisa whispered in Autumn's ear. "To our right."  
    Autumn spotted the lamp immediately. She and Lisa cautiously crept forward, trying to be as silent as possible. The lamp holder's hair gleamed white in the lamplight. It was Malfoy.  
    Lisa stamped her foot on the stone floor, hard. Malfoy whipped around at the noise, his sharp, pale features even sharper and paler in the flickering light.  
    "Who's there?" he whispered harshly, squinting into the darkness.  
    The girls tip-toed around behind him and stamped their feet again. Malfoy spun around again, accidentally dropping his lamp. The little flame went out.  
    "Who's there?" Malfoy said again, sounding a little more frightened.  
    "Who's there?" said a new voice.  
    All three children froze. Without a doubt, that was Professor McGonagall's voice. Of all people, of course she would be patrolling tonight. If she caught them... well, let's say it wouldn't be pretty.  
    Malfoy started walking backward, slowly and silently – and then he accidentally kicked over the lamp he'd dropped.  
    There was a brief scuffling sound and two shadowy figures grappling with each other, then a lamp flared. Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net, had Malfoy by the ear.  
    "Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you –"  
    "You don't understand, Professor. Harry and Autumn Potter are coming – they've got a dragon!"  
    "What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on – I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"  
    Only after the sounds of Malfoy protesting faded did Autumn let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.  
    Lisa laughed joyfully. "Malfoy's got detention! Blimey, Autumn, this was the best idea ever!"  
    Autumn unclasped her necklace so Lisa could see her.  
     **We should go up to the Astronomy Tower. Harry and Hermione might need help with Norbert.**  
    Harry and Hermione were shocked to see Autumn and Lisa, to say the least, but they were glad they'd come, as it took all four of them to fasten Norbert's crate into the harness Charlie's friends had rigged up. Then they shook hands with Charlie's friends and said thank you very much.  
    And Norbert was going... going... _gone_.  
    They slipped back down the spiral staircase of the Astronomy Tower, their hearts lighter than air. No more dragon – Malfoy in detention – what could spoil their happiness?  
    The answer to that was waiting at the door of the stairs. As they stepped into the corridor, Filch's face loomed suddenly out of the darkness.  
    "Well, well, well," he whispered, "we are in trouble."


	14. Year 1

    Things couldn't have been worse.  
    Filch took them down to Professor McGonagall's study on the ground floor, where they sat and waited without saying a word to each other. Hermione was trembling. Lisa was biting her nails. Excuses, alibis, and wild cover-up stories chased each other around Autumn's brain, each more feeble than the last. She couldn't see how they were going to get out of trouble this time. They were cornered. How could she have been so stupid as to forget to put her necklace back on? And what had Harry done with his Cloak? There was no reason on earth that Professor McGonagall would accept for being out of bed and creeping around the school in the dead of night, let alone being up the tallest Astronomy Tower, which was out-of-bounds except for classes. Add Norbert into the mess, and they might as well be packing their bags already.  
    Had Autumn thought that things couldn't have been worse? She was wrong. When Professor McGonagall appeared, she was leading Neville Longbottom.  
    "Harry!" Neville burst out, the moment he saw the other four. "I was trying to find you to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you, he said you had a drag-"  
    Harry shook his head violently to shut Neville up, but Professor McGonagall had seen. She looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert as she towered over the three of them.  
    "I would never have believed it of any of you. Mr. Filch says you were up in the Astronomy Tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. _Explain yourselves_."  
    It was the first time Hermione had ever failed to answer a teacher's question. She was staring at her slippers, as still as a statue.  
    "We – we were just –" attempted Lisa, but her voice faltered as Professor McGonagall turned her glare on her.  
    "I think I've got a good idea of what's been going on on," said Professor McGonagall, and Autumn's heart skipped a beat. "It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. I've already caught him. I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?"  
    Harry caught Neville's eye and tried to tell him without words that this wasn't true, because Neville was looking stunned and hurt. Poor, blundering Neville – Harry knew what it must have cost him to try and find them in the dark, to warn them.  
    "I'm disgusted," said Professor McGonagall. "Six students out of bed in one night! I've never heard of such a thing before! I thought you all had more sense. All five of you will receive detentions – yes, you too, Mr. Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around school at night, especially these days, it's very dangerous – and fifty points will be taken."  
    " _Fifty_?" gasped Lisa, horror written on her face.  
    "Fifty points each," said Professor McGonagall, breathing heavily through her long, pointed nose.  
    "Professor – please –"  
    "You can't –"      
    "Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Potter. Now get back to bed, all of you. I've never been more ashamed of any students in my life."  
    One hundred points lost. That put Ravenclaw in third place. In one night, they'd ruined almost any chance Ravenclaw had had for the House Cup. And Gryffindor! They'd lost a hundred and fifty points! They had even less chance of winning than Ravenclaw did. Autumn felt as though the bottom had dropped out of her stomach. How could they ever make up for this?  
    Autumn didn't sleep all night, because she was desperately trying to figure out how to remedy the situation. Teachers usually gave out five points at a time, and one hundred divided by five was twenty. Surely there were twenty students in Ravenclaw that were deserving of five points each?  
    At first, students passing the giant hourglasses that recorded the House points the next day thought there'd been a mistake. How could Gryffindor and Ravenclaw have lost so many points in the span of a single night? And then the story started to spread: the Potter twins, the famous Children-Who-Lived, the Quidditch stars, had lost all those points, them and a few other stupid first years.  
    From being two of the most popular and admired people at the school, Autumn and Harry were suddenly the most hated. Even the Hufflepuffs turned on them, because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the House Cup. Everywhere Harry or Autumn went, people pointed and didn't trouble to lower their voices as they insulted them. Slytherins, on the other hand, clapped as they walked past them, whistling and cheering, "Thanks, Potters, we owe you one!"  
    From what Autumn understood, the Gryffindors were basically shunning Harry. He told her that the only people who would speak to him were Ron and Hermione, and that during Quidditch practice, they just called him "the Seeker."  
    The Ravenclaws took a different approach. Instead of sulking and pouting about the lost points, some sixth and seventh years had devised a plan to gain the points back. Every single Ravenclaw was tasked with earning a certain amount of points before the end-of-year feast. Some people had to earn ten, others had to earn twenty-five, and others still had to earn fifty. Autumn and Lisa were both tasked with getting back the fifty points they'd each lost. The enormous blackboard where people usually wrote random questions (some philosophical, and some questions they needed answered for their homework) had been charmed to show how many points you had earned out of their goal.  
    Someone had assigned all the first year girls in Autumn's dorm "Potter Watch," which meant they each had to stay awake in shifts to watch Autumn and Lisa and make sure they didn't go out after curfew again and lose more points. To Autumn, this was far more shameful than being shunned.  
    Autumn was almost glad that the exams weren't far away. All the studying she had to do kept her mind off her misery. She, Lisa, and Luna kept to themselves, working late into the night, trying to remember the ingredients in complicated potions, learn charms and spells by heart, memorize the dates of magical discoveries and goblin rebellions....  
  
    One morning almost a week before the exams were due to start, notes were delivered to Autumn, Harry, Lisa, Hermione, and Neville at the breakfast table. They were all the same:  
  
     _Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight.  
    Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall.  
    Professor M. McGonagall_  
  
    Autumn had forgotten they still had detentions to do in the furore over the points they'd lost.  
    At eleven o'clock that night, Autumn and Lisa said good-bye to Luna in the common room and went down to the entrance hall. Filch and the three Gryffindors were already there – and so was Malfoy. Autumn had also forgotten that Malfoy had gotten a detention, too.  
    "Follow me," said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside.  
    "I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he said, leering at them. "Oh, yes... hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me.... It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out... hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed.... Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."  
    They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing. Autumn wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something horrible, or Filch wouldn't be sounding so delighted.  
    The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Autumn could see the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut. Then they heard a distant shout.  
    "Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.  
    Autumn's heart rose; if they were going to work with Hagrid it wouldn't be so bad. Harry looked as relieved as Autumn felt, and Filch must have seen, for he said, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy – it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."  
    At this, Neville let out a little moan, and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.  
    "The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual. "We can't go in there at night – there's all sorts of things in there – werewolves, I heard."  
    Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry's robe and made a choking noise. Autumn wanted to tell him that it didn't matter if there were werewolves or not, because it wasn't a full moon, but she didn't think he knew sign language.  
    "That's your problem, isn't it?" said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. "Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?"  
    Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.  
    "Abou' time," he said. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Autumn?"  
    "You shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," said Filch coldly, "they're here to be punished, after all."  
    "That's why yer late, is it?" said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."  
    "I'll be back at dawn," said Filch, "for what's left of them," he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.  
    Malfoy now turned to Hagrid.  
    "I'm not going in that forest," he said, and Autumn was pleased to hear the note of panic in his voice.  
    "Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."  
    "But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew what I was doing this, he'd –"  
    "– tell yeh that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled. "Copyin' lines!" What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on!"  
    Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously, but then dropped his gaze.  
    "Right then," said Hagrid, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."  
    He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest.  
    "Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."  
    "And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.  
    "There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."  
    "I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.  
    "All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid. "So me, Harry, Hermione, an' Lisa'll go one way an' Autumn, Draco, Neville, an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now – that's it – an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh – so, be careful – let's go."  
    The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in the earthy path, and Autumn, Neville, Malfoy, and Fang took the right path while Harry, Hermione, Lisa, and Hagrid took the left. Autumn wished they could have taken the left, because left always seemed to be luckier than right.  
    They walked mostly in silence, their eyes on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves.  
    Malfoy insisted that he be the one to carry the single lamp. Every time an owl hooted, or a breeze rustled the undergrowth, he would come to a halt and hold the lantern up as he looked around in a panic for the source of the noise. This behaviour made Neville even more nervous, and it got to the point where he was clutching Autumn's hand like a toddler.  
    "You don't think there are actually werewolves in the forest, do you?" whispered Neville.  
    Autumn shook her head. This seemed to relax Neville only marginally. Autumn could tell that he was still coiled tighter than the spring in a Jack-in-the-Box.  
    They walked on through the dense, dark trees. There were still spots of unicorn blood here and there along the winding path. Then, all of a sudden, the light from the lamp vanished.  
    Autumn and Neville stopped in their tracks and turned around. Neither the lantern nor Malfoy were anywhere to be seen.  
    "M-Malfoy?" Neville squeaked.  
    " _Boo_!" someone shouted, and grabbed Neville by the shoulders.  
    Letting out a high-pitched squeal and jumping in fright, Neville fumbled with his wand and was about to send up red sparks when Autumn yanked his wand out of his hand.  
    Malfoy, for it was he who had frightened Neville, was doubled over laughing.  
    "And they say Gryffindors are brave!" he gasped out between laughs.  
    Neville looked like he was about to cry. Patting him soothingly on the back, Autumn gave him back his wand before marching over to Malfoy and ripping the lamp from his hand.  
    "Hey!" he said in surprise.  
    Ignoring him, Autumn spun around and grabbed Neville's hand, dragging him along the path.  
    "Hey!" Malfoy said again. "Where are you going? You can't leave me here!"  
    Autumn spun around again, free hand on her hip, and glared at him, hoping the look conveyed her message: _Yeah? Says who?_  
    Neville let out a squeak of fear. Completely forgetting about Malfoy, Autumn looked at him with questioning eyes. He lifted a trembling hand and pointed straight ahead.  
    There were thick splashes of unicorn blood on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Autumn could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer.  
    It was the unicorn, and it was dead. Autumn had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves.  
    Autumn had let go of Neville's hand and taken one step toward it when a slithering sound made her freeze where she stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing shivered.... Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Autumn, Neville, Malfoy, and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood.  
    "AAAAAAAAAAARGH!"  
    Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted – so did Fang and Neville. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Autumn – unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly toward Autumn – she couldn't move for fear.      
    Then a pain like she'd never felt before pierced her head; it was as though her scar were on fire. Half blinded, she staggered backward. She heard hooves behind her, galloping – the unicorn's family? – and something jumped clean over Autumn, charging at the figure.  
    The pain in Autumn's forehead was so bad she fell to her knees. It took a minute or two to pass. When she looked up, the figure had gone. Standing over her was – was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a man, with white-blonde hair, but below that was a palomino horse's body and tail. Autumn's jaw dropped.  
    "Are you all right?" said the centaur, pulling Autumn to her feet.  
    She closed her mouth and nodded timidly.  
    He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Autumn, his eyes lingering on the scar that stood out, livid, on Autumn's forehead.  
    "You are the Potter girl," he said. "You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time – especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way.  
    "My name is Firenze," he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Autumn could clamber onto his back.  
    There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Two more centaurs, one with a chestnut body and red hair and beard, the other black-haired and -bodied and wilder looking than the first, came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.  
    "Firenze!" the second thundered. "What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"  
    "Do you realise who this is?" said Firenze. "This is the Potter girl. The quicker she leaves this forest, the better."  
    "What have you been telling her?" growled the second centaur. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?"  
    The first centaur flawed the ground nervously. "I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best," he said in a gloomy voice.  
    The second kicked his back legs in anger.  
    "For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our forest!"  
    Firenze suddenly reared on to his hind legs in anger, so that Autumn had to grab his shoulders to stay on.  
    "Did you not see that unicorn?" Firenze bellowed. "Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planet's not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must."  
    And Firenze whisked around; with Autumn clutching on as best she could, they plunged off into the trees, leaving Bane and the first centaur behind them.  
    Autumn didn't have a clue what was going on.  
    Firenze slowed to a walk, warned Autumn to keep her head bowed in case of low-hanging branches, but did not speak after that. They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Autumn thought Firenze must have been really, _really_ angry. They were passing through a particularly dense patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.  
    "Autumn Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"  
    Autumn shook her head, startled by the odd question.  
    "It is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," said Firenze. "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have bit a half-life, and cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."  
    Autumn stared at the back of Firenze's head, which was dappled silver in the moonlight.  
     _But who'd be that desperate?_ she wondered silently. _If you're going to be cursed forever, death's better, isn't it?_  
    Firenze knelt down into his forelegs again so Autumn could dismount.  
    "I have heard that when Voldemort tried to kill you, your voice was stolen instead," he said. "I speak – or rather, I know – the language of hand movements, so you may converse with me in that way."  
    Autumn repeated in sign language the question she'd asked herself.  
    "It is," Firenze agreed, "unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else – something that will bring you back to full strength and power – something that will mean you can never die. Miss Potter, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"  
     **The Philosopher's Stone! Of course – the Elixir of Life! But who –**  
    "Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?"  
    It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Autumn's heart. Over the rustling of trees, she seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told her and Harry on the night they had met: "Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die."  
     **Do you mean to say,** Autumn signed, hands shaking, **that was Vol–**  
    " _Autumn!_ Autumn, are you okay?"  
    Harry was running toward them down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind him.  
    Autumn nodded and hugged Harry, hardly aware of what she was doing. She pointed back down the path to where the unicorn lay dead.  
    "Good luck, Autumn and Harry Potter," said Firenze. "The planet's have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times."  
    He turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest, leaving Autumn shivering behind him.  
  
    After their detention, Autumn, Lisa, Harry, and Hermione hid in abandoned corridor so Autumn could tell them what Firenze had said.  
    Autumn couldn't sit down. She paced up and down in front of them. She was still shaking.  
     **Quirrell wants the Stone for Voldemort... and Voldemort's waiting in the forest... and all this time we thought Quirrell just wanted to get rich....**  
    "You really oughtn't say the name," Hermione chided Harry as he translated for her.  
     **Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so.... Bane was furious... he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen.... They must show that Voldemort's coming back.... Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me.... I suppose that's written in the stars as well.**  
    "So all we've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone," Harry said feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to come and finish both of us off.... Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."  
    Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort.  
    "Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one who You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you."  
    "Anyway, who says the centaurs are right?" Lisa piped in. "It all sounds like fortune telling to me, and have any of you ever met a fortune teller who was accurate?"

**Author's Note:**

> This story is posted in its rough draft version on my Quotev account (https://www.quotev.com/story/6432168/Forbidden-Love).


End file.
